


A Sailor & A Swan

by alwaysbeenapirate



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:11:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 118,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4156539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysbeenapirate/pseuds/alwaysbeenapirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My CS one shots from Tumblr :] some are rated T and a few will be M, but those will be marked accordingly!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Firebreather

**Author's Note:**

> Throwback to season two-ish....a little first date/NOT a date one shot based on the lyrics to ‘Firebreather’ by Laurel.

What the  _hell_ was she thinking? Wait -  _no_. It was just a drink. A girl can get a late night drink at the bar with her nemesis, right? Emma tried desperately to talk herself off a ledge as she tore through her collection of clothes for something to wear. She had avoided him for weeks successfully, only to be caught between his hook and the counter at the diner the day before.  _That_  unexpected scene was how she'd ended up here - throwing the majority of her clothes around the room as she tried to figure out what he or  _this_  was. There was  _no_  way in  _hell_  would she call  _this_  a date.

He frustrated her to no end. Sure, she'd only had to hold a productive conversation with him on a couple of occasions, but it didn't mean she hadn't seen him around town dozen of times. He'd always show up at her most composed moments and figure out a way to turn her into an absolute mess. He was borderline obscene with his suggestive smirks and bedroom eyes. The way he could run his tongue over his teeth just before punctuating a word with a hard ending sound  _had_  to be illegal and she'd know - she was the sheriff. Oh and that  _damn_  accent. That  _stupid_ , terribly sexy accent.  
  
He'd planned this, approaching it in a way he knew she couldn't refuse. It had almost been stated like a dare and Emma's love for a challenge wouldn’t allow her to back down. She thrived on competitive situations and  _damn_  him for being perceptive enough to know that. Yet when he cornered her and she  _should_  have seen him coming, the whole conversation still hit her like a bus. She had been flustered and so distracted by his charms that before she knew it, he had coerced her into this little meeting by telling her  _she_  was probably the one who "couldn't handle it". That stupid  _idiot._  
  
Combing through the closet for the thousandth time, she was about to give up when she saw  _that_  dress. The red one. The  _strapless_  red one. She grinned almost maliciously to herself. That  _scoundrel_  wouldn’t know what hit him.

The bar was oddly busy for a Thursday night which meant parking was scarce. Emma had found herself having to nearly run to get into the warmth of the bar and out of the late autumn chill. The attire she had selected wasn't exactly weather appropriate, but it was worth it if it would serve her  _other_  purposes. She tried to mentally steady herself as she entered the building, quickly scanning the room for that smug, self assured pirate that she'd come here to beat at his own game. As she strolled closer to the bar, a new song came over the speakers - a slow, seductive tune that did nothing to help matters. She'd heard it before and tapped her fingers to the beat on the wooden surface as she watched for him from a distance.  
  
**_Town cryer, village flyer._**  
  
She heard him before she saw him. He was laughing at some aspect of the conversation being shared with Jefferson, the local longtime bartender. The sound was just loud enough - silky and inviting - and Emma chided herself for smiling when she recognized it.  
  
**_Got a skull and crossbones on his chest._**  
  
Gathering herself and gaining a bit of bravery, she turned to look at him. He didn't see her yet and despite her best efforts, she began to stare. Yeah, she stared  _hard_. It really was unfair for him to look so downright attractive. He had somehow gone shopping and his usual leather pants were replaced by fitted dark washed jeans. He was wearing a linen white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the collar open. She noticed he was still wearing his rings and that chain - the one she could envision herself grabbing and....oh  _hell,_  she  _had_  to stop thinking that way.  
  
**_And I can't resist-_**  
  
She watched him stroke his jawline thoughtfully, imagining what it would feel like to drag her nails across his stubble. It seemed to accentuate his features, the dark contrast bringing out his brilliantly white smile and those unfairly dark blue eyes. How facial hair could be so positively sinful she didn't know.  
  
**_When he looks like this - oh, oh._**  
  
His dark head of hair had grown in much longer than usual but it still stuck up wildly in all the right directions before swooping across his forehead. Emma tried to visual what the bed head of Killian Jones might look like, but she internally slapped herself at the idea of this man and an early morning in the same thought.  _Freaking pull it together_ , she internally yelled at herself.  
  
**_All his other girls with face on magazines._**  
  
Suddenly, a slender dark haired girl he didn't appear to know slunk to his side, slipping her hand to his forearm. He eyed her curiously and Emma wondered why such a thing was making her blood boil. She did everything in her power to calm her shaking hands and lighten the blush on her face as she watched the girl move her fingers across his skin while whispering what was probably a long list of filthy promises into his ear.  
  
**_Big blue eyes-_**  
  
Emma wasn't about to stand there and watch him secure a place to hang his hook at the end of the night. She rolled her eyes and turned to leave, but before she could take a step in the opposite direction, he saw her. At first he seemed surprised, his posture slightly straightening and his gaze wide. It only took a second for that familiar lust to return. His eyes grew focused and stormy, the most intriguing blue she'd ever seen. He seemed to zero in on her with purpose, a devious smirk turning up the corners of his lips. The world around her went blurry as Emma found herself unable to unlock her eyes from his.  
  
**_Oh, I don't know what it means._**  
  
He flashed his teeth at her subtly as his head nodded toward the barstool next to his own. She rocked back and forth on her heels for a moment, trying to decide if securing a seat at his side was the best idea. Emma couldn’t figure out how he did this to her. She was a nervous disaster and she had  _no_  idea how to make herself appear otherwise - but it was  _damn_  time to figure it out. A deep breath left her lips as she walked toward him.  
  
Killian looked at her like he could swallow her whole. His eyes were full of that blue fire she’d continue to claim she loathed. As his tongue ran skillfully across his lower lip, she realized how difficult it was going to be to keep pretending.

**_What does he want from me?_  **

“ _Swan_ ,” he breathed, that cunning smirk irritating her ruthlessly. “I was hoping you’d make it.”

“Well, I  _said_ I’d be here,” she shot back, trying to maintain whatever confidence she could scrounge up. “So I’m here.”

“Hmmm,” Killian replied, a bit too entertained for her liking. “Good to see that you don’t back down from a challenge, love.”

The burning blue of his gaze took any words she could have said right out of her mouth. His teeth worried his bottom lip in a way that seemed to tempt her. He wasn’t even speaking. He was only  _staring_. Yes, staring in a very,  _very_  heated manner.  _Damn_  him.

“Yeah,” she responded, finally tearing her eyes away. “I need a drink.”

**_No it's too much._ **

Killian ordered for her, the sultry request for rum leaving his lips before she could even decide what she wanted. It was annoying that she found herself so okay with his selection - but hell, at this point, she would settle for  _anything_ the bartender poured. She had to find  _some_  way to relax if this was going to work. She  _had_ to figure out a way to keep him from getting to her.

He picked up his drink, tilting it toward her with an arched eyebrow. She matched his expression as she clinked her tumbler with his. He seemed to study her, swallowing hard as he watched her finish off the liquid lining the glass. He lifted a hand to wave Jefferson back over, the bartender pouring them two more before vanishing to the other side of the bar. Killian smirked at her in proposition. God, he was so  _frustrating_. It was going to be a  _hell_ of a long night.

**_Burn my sun-_  **

“So  _love_ ,” he began, his tone confident and vexatious. “You coming here tonight makes me think you might be ready to call a truce of sorts. Perhaps it means you’re willing to put our rather rocky past in the past.”

“We don’t have a past,  _Hook_.”

Using his “more colorful moniker” always made him react defensively and she saw it in his eyes the moment the name slipped past her lips. He ran his index finger up and down the glass, glaring at her with some emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“So the beanstalk doesn’t qualify as starting out on the wrong foot?”

“Are you ever going to let that go?”

**_Up in flames we go you firebreather._ **

“Perhaps,” he said after a moment. “But only if you’re willing to disengage from this unfavorable opinion you have of me.”

“I don’t have a problem with you,  _Captain_.”

Referring to him as a man in position of power seemed to strike a chord she wasn’t sure she wanted to. His expression became flat out devilish, his smirk far too mischievous and those eyes pull her in to drown. When he leaned in closer, Emma felt her defenses vanish right along with her personal space. There was  _no_  way to prepare for what he said next.

“Prove it.” 

**_Ash and dust on my door with smoke rise-_ **

Emma froze for a moment, her spine tingly as he watched her expectantly. Her mind was spinning as her fingertips flinched at her sides. What the  _hell_ was that supposed to mean? No, he didn’t get to say things like  _that_.

“Oh, come on, Swan-”

Before she could think twice - or hell, even  _once_ \- she surged forward and grabbed the collar of his crisp shirt, fusing her lips to his in a way she didn’t even know she wanted to. The shock he felt was evident in the way he jumped a bit, but it dissolved quickly as his hand moved up to hold her jaw. It didn’t take long for him to take control of the kiss, his tongue parting her lips and pulling a moan from her throat. Emma’s heart pounded as his fingers tangled in her hair and he guided her mouth flawlessly against his own.

Finally, her head cleared just enough for her jerk backward, a scorching heat warming her face. She could only imagine how embarrassed she must look - she hoped it wasn’t a match for the humiliation she felt. Her eyes were wide and her voice was conveniently misplaced. Killian finally caught his breath, his bright and blue as he stumbled to find  _any_ usable words.

“Emma, that was-”

**_Trying to survive inside your arms._ **

Her brain reeled for a response and the one that tumbled out of her mouth was not expected - or to be honest, even the  _least_ bit true. No way - not after a kiss like  _that_.

“A one time thing.”

He exhaled hard, pursing his lips into a smile that told her just how wrong she was. Now what in the seventh circle of  _hell_ had she just gotten herself into?


	2. Game Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Captain Charming Hood & the plan to handle Dark Swan. Set before 5x03 :]

“I don’t understand why you two don’t think I can do it.”

Okay, _that_  was a lie. He definitely wasn’t fooling anyone. He could tell by the way they were staring at him. They were both wearing that  _stupid_ , desperate, totally unnecessary expression of cynicism - the look that made him recall the manner in which he’d failed rather horrendously.

_Not this time though_ , he told himself silently. It was a good thing he still maintained some sense of faith - he was going to need it.

Killian rolled his eyes at the gazes he was still receiving from Robin and David, each of them giving him those condescending eyes over equal pints of beer. They’d been drowning in a few libations as they revamped their plan of attack - they  _had_ to find a way to get answers from her. If anyone could do it, it would be Killian. It  _should_ be Killian.

So yeah - he  _could_ handle this. He was Captain  _freaking_ Hook, the most cutthroat pirate ever to hoist a sail. This was going to be  _easy_ -

“Well,” David sighed, narrowing his eyes. “You didn’t  _exactly_ demonstrate what I’d call a keen ability last time-”

“Hey!  _That_ was  _not_ my fault,” Killian defended, holding up a hand to silence the prince. “I was simply....caught off guard.”

“Killian,  _you_ were the one who summoned her,” Robin emphasized, rubbing his eyes with a chuckle. “What in the bloody hell did you  _think_ would happen?”

“I know, but-”

“Look - whatever,” David cut in, shaking his head. “Forget about that. That’s not going to happen this time because  _this_ time, we’ll have a better plan. Don’t we,  _Hook_?”

He stared off into the distance as he recalled this ‘last time’ that his co-conspirators were harassing him about. Despite his poetic bravery and fearless nature, it had taken him a bit of time to work up enough courage to invite Emma’s presence back with the dagger. He didn’t really  _want_ to do it - he wasn’t interested in seeing the darkness shielding that inner light he’d grown to love until they’d devised a way to save her. But he  _missed_ her - and facing her as the Dark One was the first step in bringing her back to him.

“Earth to Killian-” Robin almost yelled, snapping his fingers. “-come  _on_ , mate.  _Focus_. We can’t afford you getting distracted again.”

Of  _course_ he’d bring that up. Killian had tried to forget the way his stare had hinged on her figure, her curved body clad in that long black coat and her slender legs moving skillfully as she walked in those stilettos. Her lips had curved into a deep red smirk and her glare was a savage green that reduced him to a man with  _zero_ agenda - well, unless you counted finding out a way to get  _those_ lips on his. 

_God_ , he missed kissing her.

“Killian!”

“What?! I’m  _listening_ ,” Killian groaned, shaking the thought of Emma from his mind though his eyes continued to glaze over. “Carry on. What’s the plan?”

“If we’re actually going to give this another shot, we need to make sure we aren’t walking in with our swords-” Robin paused, slapping Killian in the back of the head. “-in the  _wrong_ holster.”

“ _Lovely_ metaphor, Hood,” Killian retorted, trying to hide the reddening of his cheeks. “I told you - I’ve  _got_ this. Just keep  _your_ sword to yourself,  _mate_.”

“ _Really_ , you two?”

David arched an eyebrow in exasperation, placing an annoyed hand on his forehead. Charming sure knew how to command an audience - he always had. In this instance, that authoritative presence served to shut them up quickly. Killian sighed, running a hand through his hair as Robin busied himself with taking a long drink from his mug.

“We just need to know what she knows about Merlin,” David explained, raising his eyebrows to get Killian’s attention. “We need to find him if we’re going to get her back and Camelot will be easier to navigate if Emma will tell us what she knows. You just ask the questions,  _don’t_ play into the darkness, and get the  _hell_ out of there as soon as you get the facts.”

“I know, I know,” Killian nodded, spinning his pint on the tabletop as he stared at the dwindling beer inside. “I just....what if she-”

“No ‘justs’, Jones,” Robin whined, dragging his frustrated fingers down his face. “You can’t let her get in your head. We’ve got to get the information -  _no_ more excuses.”

It wasn’t so much his head that Killian was worried about. Emma had gotten into his  _heart_ long before this whole mess and honestly, that fact was what he hoped would ultimately free her from the darkness. But as the new Dark One, Emma had dropped her inhibitions and gained this careless sort of freedom. She was in control - and she liked it  _far_ too much. He had to figure out a way around that, preferably avoiding her seductive glances and those tempting, oh so  _visual_ promises as well.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Robin was right - he  _had_ to get his head in the game.

“I can do it,” Killian tried convincingly, his eyes darting back and forth between his comrades. “I  _can_! Just....give me the  _bloody_ dagger.”

David raised an eyebrow, setting it on top of the table and sliding it across to Killian. Wrapping his grip around the handle, he bit his lip gently as he tried to muster his resolve. Killian hated the way her name was etched across the blade and the sooner they could remove it, the better.

“Remember,” Robin reminded him rather annoyingly. “Stick with the  _plan_ , Jones.”

Killian scowled across the table, snagging the dreaded knife as he headed for the door. The alley seemed like a better place for this - a quieter location without the incessant reprimanding. Allowing the door to slam behind him, he drew in a ragged breath and closed his eyes in composure before he held up the blade.

“Dark One,” he breathed, his tone nervous. “I summon thee.”

It took only a fraction of a second for him to hear the click of those heels on the pavement. Lowering the dagger to his side, he tried to prepare for the sight that was quickly approaching.

“Well,  _well_ , Captain. Fancy meeting you here.”

Killian turned slowly, his boots scraping the ground as he did so. Almost instantly, his anxious blue eyes met her fierce green ones....and he realized his current state of mind wasn’t even in the same  _realm_ as ‘prepared’.

Emma stalked toward him, her hips swaying and a knowing smirk forming on her inviting lips. The long coat she wore was a deep onyx and its color rose up in a high fashion around her neck. Whatever the hell she had on underneath had a low,  _intriguing_ neckline - one that was going to make it difficult to keep his attention in the correct place. She’d let her hair down since he’d last seen her, its blonde color the only source of brightness surrounding her as it tumbled and tangled down her back. She moved into his space with intent, stopping in front of him and reaching carefully for the seam of his coat to pull him closer.

“So,  _Killian_ ,” she exhaled, her tone silky and suave in a way he wished he could enjoy. “What can  _I_  do for  _you_?”

Bloody hell.  _This_ was definitely  _not_ going to be as simple as he’d hoped. 


	3. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had to write this since it’s the only word that will be in my mind once we finally get this scene (or something similar). Kind of follows what it would have possibly looked like in 5x01, but I think it could work in a future episode :]

Killian’s feet pulled themselves slowly across the gravel covered path, his collar high on his coat just as his hopes now were. He peered sideways at her, allowing his eyes to hinge on her every move as her hair tumbled down her shoulders. She looked exhausted, but still beautiful in a way that was unfathomable. Killian felt the warmth of her grip in his, interlacing their fingers quickly as he tried to convince himself that this was real.

_She_ was real. They’d  _found_ her.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she offered, smirking when she watched panic fill his stare. “I mean about the crocodile thing - I know how you’re into that whole look.”

“Ah,  _that_ ,” Killian grinned, relieved to see her sense of humor intact. “I suppose I’ll learn to live without it. You look beautiful though, love - for the record.”

“I  _look_ like I just flew through a vortex of blackness,” she laughed as her fingers caressed his. 

“I suppose you did,” he commented. “But you still look like the Swan I’ve grown rather fond of.”

“Well, you’re not so bad yourself,” she replied, reaching up to swipe his rather lengthy hair out of his eyes. “Except for  _this_.”

“Oh, yeah? Not a fan, love?”

“I never said  _that_ ,” she told him, rolling her eyes rather flirtatiously. “You just need a haircut.”

“You’ve never complained before, darling.”

“That’s true I guess,” she shrugged, stopping to turn toward him. “I guess I’m not complaining now either.”

The love in her eyes was more evident than it had ever been - including just hours earlier when she’d been faced with such a terrifying trial. She looked at him with a gratitude he’d never witnessed, her eyes a pure green. The longer he gazed at her, the longer he wondered how any darkness would ever have a chance of overtaking Emma Swan. She  _was_ the light - she was  _his_ light.

He couldn’t do anything to fix this and he wasn’t exactly sure what to say so he did the one thing he  _knew_ would feel right - he kissed her. They’d shared a multitude of different kisses over the months they’d been learning one another, each more enveloping than the one before it. This one was new though - a kiss filled with a wealth of understanding and affection. It was exactly what he  _knew_ she needed - but only because he needed the  _exact_ same thing.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice finally stable again. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.”

She smiled softly at that, clearly just as elated to see him. He saw it then - the belief she now held that he wouldn’t ever leave her. He’d  _always_ find her. Nothing had stopped him before - it was no different now.

“Swan,” he began, pausing on the walkway as they lagged behind the others. “I need....I,  _uh_....”

She furrowed her eyebrows at him, watching the way he was at war with himself for a moment. Killian felt the words fall into place in an instance he  _never_ imagined he’d encounter. Could things really pan out like this? Was he really getting an opening as perfect at  _this_ one?

“Killian,” she started cautiously. “What is it?”

“It’s just-” he said slowly, taking her hands back into his own. “-when I watched you take the dagger and as you were swept away by the darkness, I was afraid that I’d never get the chance to tell  _you_ something.”

Her eyes went watery as she bit her lip, a reaction that prompted Killian to swallow hard. The corner of his mouth turned up as he mirrored the moment they’d had when they returned to Storybrooke after the author’s alternate scheme unraveled. It was unbelievable that somehow here they were in a new realm with a new challenge and a new journey - but with the same strong,  _unbreakable_ , unchanged feelings. His heart began to pound as her lips parted.

“Tell me what?”

“That I-” he sighed, his tone shaky as a smile encompassed his lips. “-am so  _completely_ in love with you, Emma Swan. I love you.”

She exhaled, a soft laugh escaping her as a tear rolled down her cheek. Her eyes were that same brilliant green he’d fallen into so many times. He had to wonder what words she’s choose to pair with that gaze.

“Killian,” she whispered as she closed her eyes, leaning forward to set her forehead against his. “ _Finally_.”


	4. Love Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little doctor!Killian and bailbonds!Emma in a FWB sort of relaionship. This one is rated M!

"What the hell took you so long?"  
  
"Sorry, Swan," he offered through their desperate kiss, a needy grunt escaping his throat when she grabbed the collar of his lab coat. "Emergency surgery. Cardiac patient that was sorted rather quickly although, _god_ , apparently not….fast enough."  
  
"Well, sir, I would think by now you'd know-" Emma breathed, her teeth tempting his lower lip as he pulled her flush against him. "-emergencies do not _only_ happen at the hospital."  
  
"I can see that, love - and I can assure you that I'm _fully_ prepared to attend to your needs," he teased as he toyed with the hem of her shirt and ignored the clang of his stethoscope hitting the floor. "I apologize that you had to maintain such patience, but even you should know that a man can't live without a properly beating heart."  
  
"I don't know about that, Dr. Jones," she shot back, air stuttering in her lungs as he kicked the door closed and pushed her against it. "Seems like you've done just _fine_."

“ _Please_ , love,” he taunted, grabbing the underside of her thighs and lifting her. “I’m pretty sure we both know that my body operates in peak condition _always_.”

“You're going to have to prove that to me, doctor,” Emma moaned, wrapping her legs tight around him as the wood of her front door chilled the burning flesh of her back.

“ _Again_ , huh,” he chuckled, grazing his teeth along her collarbone. “Happy to oblige.”

Emma felt like she was going to dissolve against the door as he made fast work of her clothes, tearing and tugging on the fabric until she was rendered naked and wanting. She wasn’t totally sure how she’d divested him of his coat as she yanked his shirt over his head, the pull of the sea green material leaving his hair a total shaggy mess. His face was flushed and his touch was scorching as he assaulted her neck, his teeth tormenting her collarbone in a way only _he_ had ever been able to. The way his hips were pinned to hers was tantalizing and she couldn’t help but rut against him. He tried to pull back - his tongue probably ready with some witty little remark about her being eager - but she dug her hands into his hair, kissing him hard and breathing in deeply when he moaned against her mouth.

“Bloody _hell_ , Swan,” he gasped, biting his lip as he gripped her legs harder and pressed a little firmer. “You really ought to let a man catch his breath….before you….attempt to _steal_ it away like that.”

He was prepared as always and pulled a condom from his pocket, obviously knowing exactly where a kiss like _that_ would lead. That was the point though. That’s why they were here, _right?_

“Very charming, Jones,” she groaned, lowering her body to the ground as she divested him of his loose fitting pants with a pull of the drawstring. “But I trust you know how to get it back since that seems like something they’d teach you in med school.”

“Aye, but some things-” he quipped, brushing his hard length along her thigh. “-just can’t be taught and others….can’t….be _learned_.”

“Then _show_ me, Killian,” she pleaded as she bit softly on his bottom lip. “ _Now_.”

He ripped the packet open with his teeth, watching in total intoxication as Emma rolled the condom onto him with precise and tortuously slow hands. His palms braced themselves on opposite sides of her and his eyes shut briefly as she stroked him several times. _God_ , he was easy to work up - and she loved that fact more than she knew she should.

“If you want me to demonstrate _anything_ , darling,” he started, his hands falling to her hips. “You better stop doing _that_.”

“Then you better start doing _something_ to me.”

He grinned at the request….or rather, the demand. Killian always seemed to like that about her - the way she knew what she wanted and the way she didn’t hesitate to tell him so. Truth be told, she liked being that way with him because - _well_ , because she wasn’t that way with _anyone_ else.

“Get _over_ here,” he said softly, pulling her close and drawing a trail of kisses from her neck to her ribs. “There are _many_ somethings I intend to do to you, Swan.”

“ _Please_ ,” she whispered, digging her fingernails carefully into his scalp. “I need-”

Their passion was quickly put on hold by the sound of a ringing cellphone. Killian paused his efforts, but his hands continued to anxiously explore as he obviously hoped she’d ignore the rather loud ringtone. Emma whimpered softly, annoyed at the new level of sexual frustration she was facing as he laughed ironically.

“Just pretend….you….didn’t hear it,” he told her between each nip of her jaw, his mouth doing its best to convince her. “They’ll call back, darling.”

“It’s about that stupid bail jumper I’ve been after for weeks now,” she explained, pressing her skin against his. “If I don’t answer, then I’ll…. _never_ ….get him.”

“But if you _don’t_ answer,” he tried, pushing barely into her with a choked sound. “You can have _me_ instead.”

Her argument was lost momentarily as he claimed her lips and logical mind again, thrusting slowly as he held her barely above him. The position was heated and Emma gripped his biceps, trying to gain leverage as his paced increased. She was sure the room was spinning as he squeezed the underside of her thighs and her body moved helplessly against his. It was almost the perfect distraction from the phone that wouldn’t stop ringing - until his beeper went off.

“Son of a….stupid, _sodding_ thing,” he groaned, kissing her through the noise. “I’m….we’re _not_ ….come _on_ , darling - don’t _stop_ ….”

“You know you…. _god_ , need to get that,” Emma laughed, scratching the back of his head a little harder than necessary. “ _Killian_ ….we have to-”

“I know….bloody hell, I _know_ ,” he whined, pulling back and lowering her to the ground. “I can’t believe….love, do we _really_ -”

“Yes,” she interrupted, searing her lips to his before bending to pick up her clothes. “But I’ll call you for a follow-up appointment soon, Jones. Now go save a life.”

Killian sighed in frustration as she bolted toward her bedroom, likely in search of her jacket or keys or shoes or something. He allowed his head to fall against the door with a thud, groaning as he tried to vanquish the state of mind she’d put him in the instant she dragged him inside. Peering down at his piles of clothes and somewhat protruding problem, one thing was made annoyingly clear.

It was going to be a _very_ long night in the emergency room.

###### 

It was some hour of the dwindling dawn when he finally stumbled into his office, exhausted from the surgery that had pulled him away from his _other_ pressing matter. He nearly collapsed in his desk chair with a loud sigh of relief. He’d done that a lot lately - though _this_ form of relief wasn’t as satisfying as the kind he might have found if he hadn’t been interrupted at Emma’s house. Okay, there was no ‘might’ about it. He _definitely_ would have.

She had him on edge from the moment they met, just two strangers sliding onto the side by side stools at a pub up the street several months ago. He’d lost a patient the day before and had decided to seek a little solace at the bottom of a bottle while she was looking for a way to numb the bruises she’d acquired after a late night stakeout pursuing some sort of criminal. She’d picked whiskey to do that job - well, before she picked him.

There wasn’t much to their first meeting really - a couple of shots, some unwarranted but _very_ appreciated flirting, and several bandages that he demanded she accept when he noticed the cut on her forehead complemented by the big scrape on her wrist. They wandered a few tipsy blocks to his apartment where he’d patched her up while internally thanking some higher power that the gash didn’t require stitches. Between the booze and the baffling blonde he was suddenly lusting after, Killian was positive that sutures were the _last_ thing he should be attempting.

He’d worked fast, knowing her eyes were hinging on his every knowledgeable move. Realizing his hands were too busy with wrapping her wound and retrieving more gauze, he opted to hold the bandage with his teeth to expedite the task. He recalled the way her breath caught and how quickly his focused stare darted up to find hers. It took mere _seconds_ for the makings of his first aid kit to hit the cold tile below, followed quickly by discarded clothes and any sense of modesty that might have existed between them.

Killian allowed his head to drop back against his leather office chair as he entertained the memory for a moment. It was easy to remember the little details, despite the drinks he’d indulged in prior to him ravishing her on the bathroom counter. He shifted slightly in his seat as he recalled the Emma from that night - the way her waves of hair looked against her pale skin, the heated green of her gaze when they were finally naked, the sounds and sweet seductions that fell from her lips when he slid inside. God, she was _beautiful_.

Killian had been so preoccupied by the frenzied flashback that it took him a while to notice a growing need, the sort that was very evident under the fabric of his scrubs. His hand slipped to the rather prominent bulge in his pants as he looked up at the clock - nearly two thirty in the morning. Things had calmed down quite a bit since the whirlwind of ambulances and complete insanity a few hours earlier. His office door _did_ have a lock. Killian had hoped the quiet might allow for some shut eye, but perhaps it would allow for something _else_ first.

He adjusted the position of his pants, loosening them _just_ enough for access to his boxer briefs. Reaching under his waistband, he knew he should almost be embarrassed at how quickly a single memory had affected him, but it was difficult to think straight with how hard he was. He allowed his hand to move along the thick length, stroking himself with a firm hold and a purpose that could not be ignored. He bit his lip, closing his eyes again as his efforts increased. It didn’t take long for him to grow desperate - his need hadn’t been sated earlier by the woman who was far too skilled at it when circumstances were accommodating. Yes, _she_ could satisfy him in a way that he never knew to be possible. Moving faster, Killian thrusted upward into his grip with a grunt and a soft curse he hoped nobody could hear. Pulsing hard, he spilled himself and his frustration into his palm with a tormented groan.

Bloody _hell_ \- had he _really_ just done that?

Dropping his head to the desk, Killian glanced down at the slight mess he’d created with a heavy sigh. He had hoped a slumber might find him when he’d originally locked the door behind him, but now it appeared _he_ would be the one doing some searching. Sadly, it would not be for sleep but for clean scrubs - and _god_ , he hoped he had a set _somewhere._

###### 

The rest of the week passed in chaos and crisis, his every waking second crammed with last second operations and clinic hours that wouldn’t end fast enough. He'd seen her a few times - well, _‘in between patients’_ is what she would say. He had always loved her ironic wit.

He'd worked nearly twenty four hours straight by Thursday’s midnight, collapsing on the doctor’s lounge couch for a hopefully long nap before a bright and early meeting with the transplant team. The hospital had been relatively quiet most of the day although he'd kept himself busy with case follow-ups and charting his latest patients. He was relieved to find the room that was normally buzzing with doctors one hundred percent empty.

Well, at least it was for a minute.

“Hey,” a soft whisper came from the cracked doorway. “Wake up.”

Killian sat up halfway, a crooked smile on his face when he realized who the bossy tone belonged to. It stretched a bit wider when he noticed the medical mask covering her mouth. She looked oddly energetic, possibly riding an adrenaline high after tracking down some idiot that ended up on her bonds list. She was dressed in black, her pants hugging every curve of her legs and her sweater looking cozy with a gray scarf. Kicking off her shoes, she tiptoed toward the furniture and climbed onto the couch beside him.

“This is cute,” he commented, pulling on the band tucked behind her ear. “I never knew you had such a thing for medical fashion.”

“Shut _up_ ,” she retorted, yanking off the mask to reveal her grin. “I'm _pretty_ sure you know how I feel about your scrubs. I was going for stealth though - turns out that nobody really questions you when you're wearing one of these things.”

“Well, they either think you're a nurse-” he teased, raising an eyebrow. “-or patient zero for whatever flu is going around.”

“ _Hmmm_ ,” she hummed, resting her chin on his chest. “Which would you prefer?”

“Well, even though the thought of you sauntering around in one of those cheap Halloween costumes no medical professional would _ever_ wear is rather appealing,” he smirked, grazing her cheek with his thumb. “The idea of you being contagious just _really_ does it for me.”

The moment felt sweetly honest, one of the instances that were far and few between with them. As he stared down at her deep green gaze, he wondered when exactly he started wanting more of that sincerity with her. God knows he wasn't _supposed_ to feel that way about her - though they'd never fully discussed why.

“Well, I'm here now, Dr. Jones,” she smiled, pressing her hips into his side. “Think you can pencil me in for an appointment?”

“I can _always_ find space in my schedule when it benefits your health, love.”

She stiffened a bit at his comment, doing that thing she always did when he said something that pushed delicately on those strict boundaries of hers. He wanted to smack himself for being so oddly sentimental, his right mind telling him that a reprimand was in order because they'd agreed that any path _not_ leading to the bedroom was a bad idea. It was only in quiet moments like this that he allowed himself to consider alternate routes - not that he would _ever_ admit that to her. _That_ wasn't what this was about.

“Hey….Killian?”

“Hmmm?”

Her tone staggered a bit as she grew timid suddenly, a quality he'd definitely _never_ known her for. Killian had no idea where that shade of her voice would take them - and for a moment, he wondered if finding out was wise. As her breathing hitched just a bit, his thumb moved on its own to stroke the length of her shoulder.

“A- _hhhhh_ ,” she winced, her muscles tensing. “Careful….”

“ _Whoa_ , love,” he said alarmingly, jerking upright with wide eyes and worry. “What's wr-”

He paused as his fingers brushed the arm of her sweater, his touch running over a frayed part of the fabric. He pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows in concern.

“Alright, Swan,” he started with a sigh, lowering his feet to the floor in an all business manner. “Are you going to tell me what happened or are we going to play a guessing game?”

“You know I like to be diagnosed, doctor,” she smiled weakly, biting her lip. “But really, it’s nothing.”

“Come on - up you get,” he directed, raising a taunting eyebrow as he held out his hand. “You know you can either let me help or I’ll _make_ you let me. While the latter would be _quite_ fun for both of us, I would suggest-”

She rose to her feet, smacking his chest as he winked slyly before walking to turn the lock on the door. Emma allowed her eyes to widen in flirtation.

“Modesty now, huh,” she mused with folded arms, following him to the sink at the other end of the room. “I was under the impression that you were going to examine me in the _professional_ sense.”

“I plan to,” he nodded, patting the countertop. “Hop up.”

“So you locked the door and you're telling me to sit on the counter? I seem to remember a few times when this scenario was _much_ less than appropriate, Dr. Jones.”

His ears went red and he found himself thankful for the hoodie he'd zipped up prior to her arrival. His skin tingled with chills and memories as he thought back on those instances she was likely mentioning - the granite surface of his kitchen island in the middle of the night and the cool wood of her hallway end table being two of his favorite tryst locations. He'd even laid her out carefully on the length of his office desk when she'd dropped by a few times. To say they were bold was a _bit_ of an understatement.

“I'll admit that my request does invoke a bit of _tempting_ recall,” he grinned, caging her in his arms. “But in this case, love, my intentions are more on the honorable side.”

“Mmmm,” she smiled, humming softly as his lips brushed hers. “You don't think we'll be disturbed? I've got a thing for patient confidentiality you know.”

“There are three doctors’ lounges in this hospital, darling,” he assured her, kissing her softer than he should. “I doubt one of them being closed off will be noticed by the limited staff here right now. Now get up _here,_ Swan.”

She rolled her eyes at him, feigning over exertion as she perched herself on the surface. She tilted her head in an odd state of compliance. _God_ , she was cute - and dammit, _why_ was he thinking that way?

“So, Emma,” he began, pulling some supplies from a nearby stock of tape and gauze. “Want to tell me what you’ve done to your arm?”

“Just work,” she explained, hissing softly as he slid her sleeve off to reveal a large scrape. “I should have been a little more careful I guess.”

“Can't argue with _that_ idea,” he agreed with a sweet smile. “So you fell?”

“Sort of,” she told him, her eyes watching his fingers inspect the damage. “I was running up that sidewalk patch that gets icy - the little cross section a few streets up from my place.”

“ _Ah_ , yes - where they never shovel the snow,” he commented, his eyes flickering up towards hers. “You're lucky this doesn't need stitches, Swan.”

“It must be because I've got such a skilled doctor,” she charmed.

“Perhaps,” he laughed. “At least he's observant enough to know what _really_ happened here.”

“Oh?”

“Mmmm- _hmm_ ,” he observed, dabbing at the cut etched near her shoulder with precise precaution. “The body doesn't lie, Swan.”

“But you’re saying _I_ do?”

“Not at all, love,” he promised, lifting the sweater over her head before returning to tend to the wound on her arm. “But if you’re going to claim you fell, I’m going to dispute and say you _tumbled_ \- for lack of a more specific term.”

“I see,” Emma replied, relaxing slightly under his care. “How exactly would you know such a thing?”

“Well, if you tumbled on the ice in a manner that left you scraped up _here_ ,” he illustrated, his fingers moving from her shoulder down to her ribs. “I’m going to guess you’ve got a bit of bruising….here.”

“ _Mmmm_ ,” she whined in discomfort as she shifted under his conclusion. “A little I guess….”

“Then you’ve got-” he continued, holding her chin carefully to examine the cut he hadn’t noticed under her eye until now. “-this little injury too. Now that one really should be handled with a stitch or two.”

“It’s fine,” she retorted, glaring at him with disinterest. “I’m fairly sure there’s another way you could fix it up, oh mighty healer.”

“ _Watch_ it, darling,” he grinned, grazing her back with his fingertips. “You’re hurt and I’m helping. My regular methods aren’t as effective when you’re in a state like this.”

She nudged his thigh with her foot, her eyes fused to his talented hands as they worked. He was careful when cleaning the mark on her arm, blowing lightly on it when it stung with antiseptic and covering it with a bandage. His fingers moved softly across the small scrape he’d discovered in the light, his eyes worried but assuring her that he’d avoid suturing it per her request. His gentle caress danced up her side to that tender spot, pushing just enough for her to bite her lip. He smiled at her strong will as he bent down to lay a kiss against the sore spot.

“You really do need to be more cautious, Emma,” he said with a tone that radiated worry. “If something happened to you-”

“I know,” she nodded, staring down at him as she trailed her fingers through his hair. “But I’m not made of glass, Killian. I’ll be okay.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” he smirked, moving his mouth to hers. “I just don’t want you scarring this pretty skin, Swan. I’m rather fond of it.”

“I think you’ve mentioned that once or twice,” she mumbled as his teeth grazed her lip. “Though I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“Ah, well - in _that_ case,” he beamed, his soft bite nipping along her neck. “You are _stunning_ , Swan. Beautiful. Sexy. Completely and totally _bewitching_.”

“Nobody talks-” Emma gasped, tilting her head to accommodate his efforts. “-like that, Dr. Jones.”

“But they _should_ ,” he breathed, dragging his fingertips down to her thighs. “Especially when _you're_ the subject, love. You are bloody brilliant, Emma.”

“ _Killian_ ,” she blushed, her eyes closing as she ran her hands up his chest. “Kiss me.”

He followed her plea before his mind had a chance to process their unusual intimacy. It was a scene laced with emotion - the way he was tending to her battle wounds with little touches and well placed kisses as he worked. She couldn't keep her hands off him and he wasn't sure if she felt that undeniable magnetism fill the air between them. _God_ , he could only hope so.

“ _Careful_ , lass,” he warned when her hands landed on the elastic of his waistband. “You're injured - I don't want to hurt you further.”

“You won't hurt me,” she moaned, her breath heavy. “ _Please_ , Killian.”

The way her mouth quivered against his didn't allow him even a chance to think of denying her - not that he desired that anyway. No, despite her being sore in all the wrong places, he still wanted her to feel him in all the _right_ ones.

“Slow then, Emma,” he told her, descending a trail of hot kisses down her torso. “As your doctor, I would highly recommend that.”

“I don't care how,” she choked out, her hands at the back of his head. “Just....keep touching me.”

He didn't miss a beat, his anxious grip pulling her pants off and dropping them to the floor below. The counter was high and kneeling wouldn't do so he oh _so_ cautiously pulled her to the edge, leaning down to kiss from one hip to the other. He couldn’t help but peer up at her from hooded eyes, watching the way she stared down at him with heated abandon. He needed her to need _him_ \- and bloody _hell_ , the way she trembled when his lips moved up the inside of her thigh told him just how much she truly _did_.

“Killian,” she whined, digging her hands into his wild mess of hair. “Stop _teasing_ and just…. _oh_ , god-”

Her firm demand was cut off as he pulled her to his mouth fast, his tongue licking and taunting her as he gripped her legs with steady hands. She vibrated under his hold as his efforts moved back and forth from tortuously lazy to frenzied and fierce. He groaned when her hips rutted against his face slowly, their pleading pace increasing quickly. Emma knew _damn_ well how much he loved that and her new, calculated movement made his pulse pound.

“Oh, god - _Killian_ ,” she moaned, pulling on his hair as he continued with harder intention. “That’s so…. _mmmm_ …. _more_.”

He loved when she hit this point - uncontrolled and completely at the mercy of his talented tongue. Emma bucked up hard, riding his face as he growled softly. The heat between them spiraled fast as she fell apart with a swallowed scream, biting her lip hard to keep the rather sensual sound hushed to a hospital appropriate level. Killian brought her down slowly and tenderly, humming subtly as her nails scratched gently up and down his scalp. A spent sigh left Emma’s lips after a moment and he pulled back to glance up at her, thoroughly satisfied to see her so sated - even though the defiant issue in his pants was trying to tempt him otherwise.

“So,” he said quietly, kissing her neck once more as she nearly collapsed against him. “Feeling better, love?”

“Well, I _was_ -” she mumbled. “-until you decided to be smug about it.”

“Never smug, Emma,” he laughed, stroking her hair. “Merely concerned for your well being. Plus, I do like to take a bit of pride in a correct diagnosis. Hippocratic oath and all that.”

“Yeah I know,” she smiled, looking up at him. “So did you get me all sorted out? What exactly do you think might be ailing me, doctor?”

“You, Swan, have a rather severe case-” he decided, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “-of being stubborn as _hell_.”

“Hmmm,” she breathed, nuzzling his chest. “Sounds about right I guess. What would you prescribe for such a thing?”

“I’d say at least a few hours rest,” he told her, tilting his head from side to side in feigned contemplation. “But I’d say you need to be monitored, love. I’d recommend staying in close vicinity to the hospital.”

“I think you mean close vicinity to _you_ ,” Emma decoded. “But I guess doctor’s orders are meant to be followed.”

“Emma Swan accepting _my_ humble advice,” he grinned. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah _right_ ,” she rolled her eyes. “Even _I_ know that doctor knows best, Jones. Where’s your lab coat?”

“I think….over there,” he answered, glancing toward the couch across the room. “Why do you ask, love?”

“Well, my sweater is ripped and my arm has been _expertly_ tended to,” she teased, reaching to scratch his beard gently. “I think it might be best to wear something loose fitting.”

“Excellent suggestion, darling,” Killian nodded. “There might be a position for you available in the medical field if you keep that up.”

“I’ll have to sleep on that offer, Jones,” she laughed. “Speaking of which….”

“Yes, love,” he agreed, holding out his keys. “Just need to check in on a couple of patients real fast, but there’s a blanket and pillow in the trunk by my desk-”

“You _mean_ in your little pirate treasure chest,” she grinned, her dimples deep as she exuded amusement. “I know where they are. You’ll be fast?”

“Aye,” he committed, kissing her forehead. “Should only take a moment, Swan.”

“I’ll warm up the futon for you then,” she offered, her lips curving upward. “But I’m taking your coat.”

It was one of the more unfortunate circumstances that she couldn’t commit to getting comfortable in the king sized bed he had at home, but the follow up proposal of Emma wearing _any_ piece of his clothing was a decent consolation. Hell, the fact that she was willing to _stay_ was enough to make his stomach flip flop - _even_ if it wasn’t supposed to.

“Fine by me,” he replied, holding out the medical mask she’d tossed off earlier. “Don’t forget this - though my attire should help you blend in rather well.”

“I’m counting on it,” she said with one more kiss. “See you soon, doctor.”

Killian tried to fight off the undeniable bliss filling his mind as he watched her go, raising her eyebrows flirtatiously as she popped the collar on his white lab coat before heading out the door with the jingle of his key ring. He adjusted his scrubs delicately with a soft grunt as he realized there was no way in _hell_ he was going to get much rest tonight - not with that beautiful blonde in his makeshift bed.

###### 

“Son of a bitch, _Dave_ ,” Killian snapped, irritation heavy in his tone. “Why in the hell-”

“Just hold _still_ , dammit,” Dr. Nolan demanded, rolling his eyes. “You’re such a baby.”

Killian wasn’t really sure how his night went from reading x-rays to rescuing several passengers from a seven car pile up on the bridge near the town line. The night had been slow a few hours earlier, the emergency room drifting into a bit of an evening lull when the call came in. With limited paramedics, he and a few of the other physicians - his loyal yet total pain in the _ass_ best mate included - had been recruited to help aid the rescue effort. A few hours, several saved victims, a run in with some shattered glass, and soaking wet clothes from a torrential downpour had led him here - sitting on an exam table while his best friend jabbed him with a stitching needle and some harsh but true words.

“Good _lord_ , mate - stop trying to _stab_ me,” Killian carried on, flinching dramatically. “It probably doesn’t even need stitches.”

“Shut _up_ , Jones,” David groaned, examining the suture line with careful eyes. “You’re lucky you didn’t cut your _damn_ hand off.”

“Some might call assisting others in peril a heroic thing-” Killian grimaced. “-or just workplace competence, given the fact that helping others _is_ part of the job description.”

“Risking your livelihood to do your job seems a _bit_ ironic,” David defended, pressing the needle a bit harder than he truly needed to. “A surgeon without a functioning hand is probably going to have a hard time finding work.”

“ _Awww_ , Dr. Nolan,” Killian teased with narrow eyes. “It’s always nice to hear how much you care.”

“ _Somebody’s_ got to,” David retorted. “We both know you don’t exactly take a lot of precaution when it comes to yourself.”

Killian looked down in silence, observing the injury that stretched from wrist nearly all the way to his elbow. He had been stupid to allow it to happen, a moment of distraction creeping up on him when he should have been nothing but alert.

But it was Emma on his mind - it was _always_ her.

He’d been hopping on the ambulance toward the accident scene when her name had lit up his phone. He felt his heart stumble over itself as he stared down at it a moment, utterly frustrated that he couldn’t answer. He hadn’t seen her in a few days - well, not since he woke up with her clinging to his side in the early hours of his office’s window light. She’d been sleeping so soundly that he didn’t wake her immediately. He let her slumber at his side, running his fingertips up and down her back as she snuggled against him. It was calm and comfortable in a way Killian didn’t see often.

Of _course_ , his beeper would go off in an instance as tranquil as that one. He’d been trying not to think about it - the strange mix of emotions he’d seen in her stare when she finally opened those bright green eyes. He’d seen the fear - but he’d also seen the pure elation. That second one was a _little_ less familiar than the first.

“Okay - done,” David announced, pulling off his rubber gloves and tossing them across the room to the trash. “You’re heading home, right?”

“Yeah, _uh_ ….guess I probably-”

The half spoken sentence hung in the air on a breath that had escaped Killian without warning. His eyes moved liked magnets to the doorway where a flash of brilliant blonde caught his attention like nothing or no one else would be able to. Her eyes were a deep emerald, full of panic and uncertainty as she crossed her arms over her chest. A sympathetic smile lined that pair of lips he'd been wanting to kiss for days now. The world around him blurred and Killian allowed his mouth to part in confusion.

“I'll give you guys a minute,” David said after what felt like hours. “Nice to see you, Emma.”

David smiled gratefully at her, a gesture she quickly returned while rocking backward on the heels of her boots. His best friend and this woman that he felt something for had come to know one another well enough over the course of the little escapade Killian and Emma had been sharing. It was possible they knew each other a _bit_ too well given the fact that David had nearly walked in on them in less than decent circumstances a few times. The poor man still struggled with walking past the second floor janitor’s closet where he'd once gone to get cleaning supplies and ended up seeing something _slightly_ more filthy than the actual mess he was trying to resolve. Killian mused quietly at the memory before his attention was brought back to the woman who'd laughed _hysterically_ during that situation - yes, the woman who had come up with that _damn_ idea in the first place.

He'd missed her that week - probably more than he was permitted to, but he didn't care. She was _there_. She'd come to visit him as usual - but the nervousness etched in her expression suggested that this meeting was definitely _not_ of the usual sort.

“Emma?”

The name left his tongue like a question and Killian tried to dissect the foreign tone of his words. He'd said that name plenty of times. He'd yelled it and mumbled it and whispered it. He'd used it when he was lecturing her about being careful at work and when he was testing the waters of deep desire. This, however, sounded different. It was a _relieved_ tone. It was perhaps even happy.

“Killian,” she started, taking a deep breath with somewhat watery eyes. “Hi.”

“You're here,” he said after a moment, shaking his head at the obvious remark. “I mean….are you…. _what_ are you-”

His question became lost between them quickly as Emma moved purposefully across the tile floor, flinging her arms around his neck and letting her lips land firmly on his. Killian froze in surprise, but melted into her after a moment as his arms caged her close and his mouth worked against hers in a frenzy. Emma seemed to breathe him in like some sort of lifeline, gripping the back of his scalp as the kiss deepened. He felt it then - well, he _allowed_ himself to finally feel it. Truthfully, the prodding feeling had been there all along.

Emma Swan was worried about him. Emma Swan _cared_ for him. Emma Swan might even lo-....wait, _no_. Not _yet_. Killian kicked himself internally at assumption, even though a very large part of him hoped the thought was accurate.

“ _Swan_ ,” he gasped, pulling back but running his hands up and down her back. “What are you doing, love?”

“I just….I, _uh_ ,” she stuttered, her eyes hazy with lust. “I wanted….I _needed_ to make sure you were okay.”

“I see,” Killian said with a cautious pause. “I’m _pretty_ sure I still am - although David nearly saw to it otherwise while he was closing up my arm.”

She stepped back abruptly, her eyes darting down at the bandaged cut with panic. Her concerned expression was almost humorous as Killian tried to process just how much she did think of him. Certainty was a rare thing when it came to Emma Swan.

“It’s okay, Emma,” he mused, a half smile attempting to comfort her. “I’m a survivor.”

“I know that,” she said softly. “I just….on my way here I kept thinking and….well, if something _had_ happened to you, Killian….”

There it was - the fascinating, riveting, one _hundred_ percent truth. She didn’t want to lose him.

“Nothing is going to happen to me, Swan,” he smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” she almost whispered. “Because I wanted to….well, I’m here to ask you out.”

Holy _hell_ \- this was _really_ happening. Killian tried to steady the heavy thumping of his heart as he lifted an eyebrow.

“Ask me out?”

“Uh, yeah,” she blushed, pursing her lips. “Like to dinner or something?”

He waited a moment, wondering if her determination might shift or if she might brush off the idea. She didn’t though - and it was so _beautifully_ uncharacteristic.

“I’d like that,” he grinned. “But only if you’ll let me plan the evening.”

“I know how to plan a date!”

“I’m sure you do, love,” he laughed, tangling his fingers in her long wavy hair. “But as much as I enjoy you visiting me at work, I think I’d prefer our date not ending in the emergency room.”

“So are you saying-” Emma teased, running her hands down his chest. “-that you’d be _willing_ to make a house call?”

“I’d be willing to do _many_ things for you, Swan,” he told her, honesty and happiness radiating in his stare. “After all, you know I take pride in first rate patient care.”

“Yeah,” she sighed with a sweet smile. “I _definitely_ do.”

Later that night after a missed reservation at _two_ different restaurants and _more_ than two passionate rounds in her soft sheets, Killian realized just how fine he was with the occasional emergency.


	5. A Home in the Highlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some CS smut written in the Outlander wedding night style - I highly recommend this show if you have not seen it! This one is M RATED for sure!

The fresh white roses were slightly wilted by the time Emma pulled the flower crown from the top of her head. They'd been strung together early that morning, woven around the twisted wooden halo by an elderly woman all the men affectionately called Granny. She had helped Emma with her tangled hair, brushing it into fine silky waves and telling her she looked like nothing less than an angel. It had been impossible not to offer a grateful smile at that kind remark, even though the term wasn't what he would have called her. No, he'd deem her a princess once again - _just_ like he had from the day they met.

###### 

_"You want me to….sit in a saddle? In this dress?"_

_"Aye, Princess," he'd smirked before rolling his eyes. "Sooner rather than later too. Miles to go before the light loses the road."_

_"I'm not a princess," she'd scowled, staring up at the back of the beautiful black horse at her side. "I can walk."_

_"I'm sure you can," he had nodded, bending down fast to tug on the dragging fabric of her skirt and tearing it off up to the knee. "But you're going to ride - right up on this mare with me, lass. Now up with you."_

_"Excuse me! You can't just-" she'd shot back, disbelief painting her features as she glared at him. "-do that! That dress came from France and I can assure you that my father would not be pleased to see you act in such a manner, soldier…."_

_"Well, I am from Ireland, m'lady, and that gown is not really high on our list of concerns at the moment." he grinned, holding her waist a bit too suggestively as his whisper skimmed her ear. "Now would you like me to lift you or can you get on the bloody horse yourself, love?"_

_"Do not call me 'love'..."_

_"Very well," he smirked. "Princess."_

###### 

Emma wasn't sure how it had all evolved from there, her mind still searching for pieces of the memories that made up the past few weeks. It had taken her a few rounds of stealthy research to figure out where she'd landed when she fell through the portal near the wishing well weeks ago, some force of magic or witchcraft taking her from the woods near her childhood home and landing her decades in the past. She speculated the era by reading a letter she'd found with a fallen soldier, but she knew it for sure the moment she met _him_.

She was in Ireland - the newly acquired company of a small rebel brigade in 1743.

They'd all come from a few different places - the green hills of Ireland, a castle prison in England, the conquered territory of Scotland - but they all sought refuge from the war. Emma supposed there was beauty in the way they'd all put aside their once loyalties to look out for one another and oddly enough, it didn't take long for them to do the same for her - especially _one_ in particular.

She was lost in time and in life, but once she found them….well, he _really_ found her. He knew little about where she'd come from - only that it was a land far away and nothing about how that particular land lie years in the future. He deduced rather quickly that she'd come to them in distress, clearly uncertain of where she was or why it was unsafe. It seemed all the more reason for his strong desire to look after her. Emma did know why, but it was as if he understood her disillusion. It was almost like they'd known each other in some other lifetime. _Kindred spirits_ , she'd once thought to herself.

She'd fallen for him just a little every day on the trail, the tromping of horse hooves and highland boulders the only shelter from a man who'd been in pursuit of the group since they'd escaped his capture months earlier. He'd saved her from a rushing river and unknown sounds of the darkness, keeping her in his view each night as she dozed off near the fire. He'd made sure she stayed warm by cloaking her in his warmest blanket when they traveled during rainfall. He helped keep her mind and curiosity sharp by telling her intricate history of the countryside surrounding them as well as the place he'd once called his own land.

It had been oddly pleasant - she'd perhaps call it appealing even if it was in a strange sense. Emma had never met a man who took such honor in his words and defended his beliefs in all circumstances. He was dependable and caring, even when she didn't want him to be. This _man_ \- this Killian Jones…..well, _he_ was her constant. Emma didn't realize just how much she desired that until she had it.

But she truly did not realize how much she _needed_ it until that fateful afternoon not long ago.

She tried to forget the more trying events of that single day on their journey - the several hours really - but in the end, it was fruitless. Perhaps it was better that way though. Losing the memory of the day that changed everything wouldn't be fair to her heart - and perhaps not his either. He deserved her gratitude and pure respect for what he'd done. She was sure that she was the one who quickly became undeserving of the man in the green plaid kilt.

Emma knew that if Killian was asked, he would say it was _he_ who hadn't earned her. That wasn't true in the slightest - after all, he saved her life. In the short time she'd known this man, he'd certainly made a habit of that.

It had all happened so fast. She had decided to make a break for it when he'd left her behind once again, demanding she stay under the cover of the trees while he scouted the mountain pass with the others. They'd fought - Emma calling him _many_ foul choice words that no woman of noble status should know while he had almost begged her to stop being so stubborn.

###### 

_"I don't have to stay here with you, you ingrate!"_

_"Well then, by all means, m'lady," he'd groaned, gritting his teeth. "Get on with you and don't let the ground trip you on your way out."_

_"I'm not your property, Killian Jones," she'd growled. "You don't get to tell me what to do."_

_"You're right - you aren't mine to claim, love," he said after a moment, his eyes blue with honesty. "But you are the woman I've promised to keep safe and I'm not about to forego that commitment."_

_"I can keep myself safe," she deadpanned, tossing the spare kilt he'd pulled around her shoulders when she'd shivered earlier. "I don't need you or any other poor excuse for a soldier ordering me around like you know what's best for me. You don't!"_

_"Emma, I just-" he tried, his words cut off by a holler from the men across the way. "-look, I have to go, lass. Will you just….just tell me you will stay here until I get back. Can you do that, love?"_

_"Fine."_

_"Emma," he breathed, trying and failing to take her hands. "Please say it."_

_"I said fine," she glared. "I will wait."_

###### 

She hadn't though of course. Her arrogance and unprovoked anger had gotten the best of her, leading her away from the hideout she'd committed to and up the hillside to what would hopefully be a better view.

It wasn't - _well_ , unless you'd call the sight of a band of red embroidered uniforms and several black horses closing in on her a better view. Emma didn't label it that way though.

###### 

_"Listen here, woman," the general growled. "You will find that my patience is not infinite…."_

_"Get off me, you bastard," she cried, trying to scramble from the general's tight hold. "Let me go!"_

_"Ah, a filthy mouth on this one," the man sneered. "You are no lady, miss. Not with words like that-"_

_"I'll thank you to take your hands off….my…."_

_Emma's head jerked sideways as the man's militant grip loosened slightly. She knew that lilting voice. It was him - her true savior. He looked intense, his eyes dark with a blue fire while laced with some sort of confusion. Emma was far too grateful for the sight of such a rugged rescuer to realize why._

_"Your what, Jones? I highly doubt this whore belongs to you," the man laughed, his breath hot on her neck. "Then again, you've always struggled with holding on to your possessions. Tell me, madam, do you know this man?"_

_"Yes," Emma breathed as her eyes latched onto Killian's. "He's…my husband."_

###### 

Emma still wasn't sure how the words had spun together in her mind. Perhaps it was the fear. Perhaps it was the desperation. Maybe it was even some sort of underlying desire that she wasn't ready to confront, but the moment she said it, the determination in Killian's stare grew that much stronger. She wondered just how hard her decision to refer to their relationship as such a thing had hit him.

A stray arrow had skimmed the general's leg, a weapon Emma didn't even know was still used in battle. The man's painful yell broke through the air and he released his grip as Killian's arms reached for her. Running toward him was like going home, his embrace safe and protective as they dashed back up the grassy hill toward his horse. She held tight to him, her arms wrapped hard around his waist and her face buried in his back as the sound of galloping hooves took them far from the wretched situation she'd wandered into.

She'd been so stupid and careless and headstrong and she could have been killed - or _worse_. She tried not to recall that look in Killian's too blue eyes when they reached the riverside, the way his concerned and relieved gaze told her that he didn't care about anything except the fact that she was okay. She didn't know how she could still possibly earn that sort of a look from this man, but he never ceased to give it to her.

###### 

_"Emma - love..."_

_"Killian, don't."_

_"Hey, you need not be scared of me - nor of anyone here," he tried, taking her hands slowly into his. "Not so long as I'm with you."_

_"You came after me."_

_"Aye," he nodded, leading her to rest on a boulder by the water. "We don't have to talk about that right now, lass. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"_

_"No, he didn't," she confirmed softly, tears on her cheeks. "Thanks to you."_

_"Emma, I'm sorry," he told her, kneeling on the rocky shore and brushing her hair out of her eyes. "That never should have happened, love. I should have been there-"_

_"No, it was my fault," she sobbed. "I should have listened-"_

_"I shouldn't have left you," he cut her off, his tone shaky. "I vowed not to let anything happen to you and I should never have-"_

_"I should have done as you requested!"_

_"I don't care about that, lass," he replied, his voice full of emotion. "I just….you don't know….how much it hurts - I could have lost you….and to that man…."_

_"Killian-"_

_"Emma, when you screamed….I couldn't….it was like having my heart torn out."_

_"I didn't mean….Killian, I-" she tried, biting her lip and shaking her head. "-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone. I should have just listened and stayed and then none of this would be happening. You shouldn't have to worry about me always just-"_

_"I will always worry about you, Swan," he interrupted, intertwining their fingers as he caught his breath._

_"But you don't have to," she almost whispered. "So why would you want to?"_

_"Because I love you, Emma Swan," he finally said, his eyes bright and honest. "No matter what you've done."_

###### 

Emma tilted her head as she toyed with her hair in thought. He'd said it then - the three words that she hadn't planned on wanting to hear from that man. Yet when the sweet sentiment hit her ears, she knew she needed to hear it again and again. Killian Jones being in love with her was the only way she'd survive.

The gown trailing its way from her shoulders down her middle fell long and loose at her feet. The lace that was sporadically woven into the skirt and the sleeves had glistened beautifully in the sunlight. The stitching was intricate and beaded in a way that must have taken someone hours. Ruby, one of the women working in the castle, had brought it to Emma that morning. She'd crisscrossed the back for her, weaving the threads in and out of the appropriate loops all the way to the top. It wasn't as tight as the corset Emma had worn back in her own time when her father had thrown that party for her birthday, the one where he'd been hoping to select a suitable husband for her. That plan of his had been years earlier of course, but it was still rather ironic that not even Emma had any control over that now.

Though perhaps it was her split second choice to deem him as hers while in the grip of her captor that started this whole thing.

###### 

_"It would make sense, Jones."_

_"Sorry, Hood," Killian said with a sigh barely audible over the crackling fire. "But I don't see your reasoning."_

_Emma's slumber had come quickly after such a trying afternoon, her eyes tired with dwindling tears by sunset. Killian had pulled the plaid tight around her and folded her in his arms with a tight hug. It had taken some time but she'd relaxed against him, her breathing evening out as his fingers tangled in her hair while he hummed the tune of an old folk song. She'd fallen asleep faster than she thought she could with the dull scent of burning wood and whiskey. It wasn't until she heard the soft conversation a few paces away that she stirred. He was talking to Robin - Emma smiled at that. It was that particular man's arrow who'd given her time to escape the enemy earlier that day._

_"Well, she's not from here, Killian-"_

_"None of us are," Killian snapped, taking a drink from the flask in his hand. "That shouldn't pose an issue, mate."_

_"No, but it does where Captain Gold is concerned," Robin replied. "We both know he's not going to stop and especially not now….I mean after everything today, he's going to hunt us harder if anything."_

_"But I can't….that won't….I just don't think me marrying her is the answer."_

_"It was her answer to Gold and it was enough to get her away, Killian."_

_"That and your arrow, Hood," Killian reminded him, the smile evident in his voice. "But just because you were in your right mind in that doesn't mean you are in this."_

_"You might think you're nothing but an Irishman, but you're a Scottish citizen through your mother's right, Killian," Robin retorted. "You know that - and you know that would keep her safe. Even Gold isn't stupid enough to try to take a Scottish man's wife through unfit warfare, even if he is suspicious. If she's yours, no paper nor perilous man can force her away so easily."_

_"I know….and you're right," Killian said after a moment. "But I won't have her marry me out of obligation. I can keep her safe otherwise."_

_"Maybe," Robin replied, his words a little quieter. "But you may not have the chance to test that theory."_

###### 

She smiled softly at the recollection from those several nights ago. It was sweet really - the way he'd obviously held her in his embrace until he knew she was dreaming and the manner in which he had cushioned her head with his saddlebag. He was always doing little things like that for her. It was adoration at its humblest.

Emma was trying to summon more of her memory of that concealed conversation forward as she looked into the mirror ahead. They hadn't known she was listening and though Robin had been a bit insistent, she knew that Killian would have never forced her hand in such a big choice. In the end, he didn't have to.

###### 

_"So Robin thinks we should be married?"_

_"Ah," Killian said, blushing a bit as he sat down by her. "You heard that then?"_

_"Yes," she admitted, taking the canteen of water he offered her. "Is he correct?"_

_"He….I don't know, love," Killian stammered, the light of dawn reflecting off his dark hair. "He's just trying to think of the best way to protect you. Everyone is….Robin, Will, Graham-"_

_"You?"_

_"Aye - me," he nodded, a smile on his lips. "Most of all, Swan. I'll find a way to keep you safe."_

_"What if that is the way?"_

_"Well," he sighed, biting his lip. "I'm sure it's not the only way, princess."_

_"But what if-" Emma paused, taking a deep breath. "-it's the way I choose?"_

###### 

Emma knew that it wasn't the way her parents would have wanted it. Then again, there were several things about her life - past _and_ well, present - that her parents would not prefer. They'd virtually had it all mapped out for her already, long before she'd found herself falling down the well. She was to marry Walsh, a distant noble's son who would help bridge an alliance between the two kingdoms. It was supposed to be an honor - a _privilege_ to be a part of the marriage that united the lands, but it wasn't in Emma's mind. It was an obligation. It was a _sentence_.

She was in the middle of mulling over the difference between that life and this chosen one when the wood of the door scraped across the boards underfoot. The sound startled Emma and her head turned quickly in the direction of it, her breath hitching in her throat when she caught the first glimpse of him - well, the first glimpse of him as her _husband_. After all, she hadn't seen him since then.

###### 

_Kissing him. It was all she'd been able to think of for hours now. They hadn't done that yet - not that she hadn't wanted to - but the time hadn't been right. She'd wondered about his kiss a few times and what his lips might feel like pressed so passionately to hers. It wasn't as if the thought was a sin. He was hers - he'd be totally hers by nightfall. They would be wed, husband and wife in every sense of the label._

_"Just say as I say," he whispered, adjusting his hold on her hands as the candlelights flickered. "I'll help you."_

_Gaelic vows filled the room, the priest speaking followed by Killian and then her own shaky tone. The words were beautiful although she had no idea what any of it meant. She tried to keep with him, watching the contours of his lips curve around the language Emma knew none of. His tongue grazed his teeth a few times during the task and he smirked when he noticed how entranced she was by it. God, that mouth certainly had the ability to tempt._

_"It's okay, Emma," he breathed, nodding when their part was finished. "Almost there."_

###### 

"Swan," he gasped sweetly, boarding the door shut behind himself. "There you are."

"Yeah - sorry," she blushed, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I just wanted to find some quiet for a moment."

"Oh. Would you, _uh_ ….do you want me to go?"

"No, _no_ , it's okay," she assured him, taking her lip between her teeth. "I mean….you should….I _want_ you to stay."

"Very well," he smiled, gesturing toward the bed. "Can I sit?"

"Yes. Please."

"Emma," he started, his eyes falling to the ground in uncertainty. "We don't….have to do this."

Of _course_ he'd be this way with her - he had been since the moment he rescued her. Killian wasn't going to push her. He wasn't going to _take_ any sort of her virtue. He was asking her if she truly wanted to _give_ it. Emma pursed her lips to hide the flattered smirk that threatened them. She didn't know why she would have ever thought anything different. After all, she had been the one to make the first move the night before and even though there'd been a bit of whiskey involved in that process, she wouldn't change her actions for the world. In fact, she probably would have taken it further if she was able to do it all again.

###### 

_"Swan, you should have seen him," Killian laughed, holding her arm as they staggered toward the stables. "I mean it! I told it to you exactly how Will told it to me. Flat out grinning like a dog with its tail 'tween his legs and beaming red the entire time."_

_"I still can't believe-" Emma giggled, pausing to hiccup. "-you sent a man to procure my dress! From….that establishment no less! I'm surprised he made it out alive."_

_"Well I didn't have much choice, love," Killian grinned as he slid open the door to the run down building. "I had wedding tasks to attend to myself."_

_"Oh is that so? Like what?"_

_"Acquire a finer kilt than the one you've often got draped around your shoulders, lass," he said, taking her hand and leading her across the hay covered floor. "Plus a ring."_

_"A ring….for me?"_

_"Aye."_

_"Oh," she blushed, batting her eyelashes as he watched her carefully. "Can I see it?"_

_"You can," he confirmed, handing her the half empty bottle. "Tomorrow."_

_"Tease," she mumbled as she swallowed a small sip. "That's bad form you know."_

_"Not intentionally," he smirked, checking the ties they'd used earlier to station the horse in its corral. "Some things are just better left to the element of surprise, darling."_

_"Hmmm," Emma hummed, raising an eyebrow as she meandered toward him. "All things?"_

_"I...don't, uh…know," he stuttered, his posture straightening as her hands landed on his chest. "Maybe not all."_

_"I see," Emma grinned as her hands traced his torso. "I'm inclined to agree."_

_"Is there-" he asked, his fingertips at her waist as her warm breath grazed her ear. "-a reason you're curious?"_

_"Maybe," she offered as her fingers found his belt. "Perhaps I'm merely interested in eliminating some of the secrecy."_

_"I can...see….that," he gasped as she ran her touch along the seam of his hips. "Swan, what are….are you…."_

_"If you'll let me," she replied, her eyes honest and deep green. "Will you?"_

_"Anything, lass," he breathed as her teeth nipped at his ear. "I'm yours….completely."_

_"That's an answer I can learn to love," she sighed, flipping the clasp of his belt so it hit the wood planks below with a clang. "Now stay still."_

_"Wait, we….can't….here? What if someone finds us?"_

_"A chance I'm willing to take," she told him, her hands wandering the pleats of his kilt. "Are you?"_

_"We should wait, princess," he tried, his eyes falling shut as she unfolded the fabric. "But….I….I want you so much I can scarcely breathe."_

_"You do?"_

_"Aye," he assured her as he brushed the hair away from her face. "Though the proper man in me would prefer to wait until after we are wed for that."_

_"I can agree to that," Emma nodded, her breath laced with alcohol. "But there's something I want to do before that."_

_She divested him of the plaid, letting the colors that covered his legs hit the ground followed by the silver brooch that usually held it all together. He was bare underneath and Emma nudged him in the direction of a small wall that partially concealed them from the entrance. He hit the surface with a grunt, one that shifted into a soft moan when she took him in her palm. Moving slowly, she stroked with precise motion as she unbuttoned his shirt. He hissed a broken sound when her fingernails trailed down through the hair on his chest, her other hand meeting the one already touching him. Emma dropped carefully to her knees, cushioning them with the shirt of her dress as she continued her back and forth hold on his hardening length._

_"Swan," he groaned, widening his stance. "Bloody hell, lass…."_

_"Remember," she said softly, peering up at him. "Still."_

_He nodded as his head dropped back against the hard wall with a thud. Emma smirked up at him as her grip tightened slightly, bringing her lips forward to the tip of him. He let out a noise that went straight through Emma when she finally took him into her mouth. His fingers tangled in her hair as she moved up and down, giving him a bit of range to rut his hips._

_"Emma," he grunted. "You have….to….stop…."_

_"No, it's okay," she paused, tugging firmly on him as she ran her tongue along the ridges of him. "You can come."_

_Her mouth widened and she took him in again, moving faster and allowing him to thrust to the back of her throat. He let out a tormented moan as he surged forward once more and Emma hummed against him as he released. His breath was ragged as he came and her mouth moved steadily until his hand stopped her with a loud sigh._

_"Now you must stop," he shivered, his smile sated. "Or you will likely kill me, love."_

_"Well, we can't have that," Emma laughed as he pulled her back to her feet. "I have to marry you first."_

_"Aye, darling," he grinned, smoothing her hair as he took her into his embrace and kissed her temple. "You do."_

###### 

The concern in his brilliant blue stare tore Emma from her reminiscing after a moment or two. She took his hand and wove their fingers tight together in an effort to calm him. He didn't seem nervous - no, more _uncertain_ it seemed. It definitely wasn't that he felt unsure of his feelings for her. He just wanted to make sure she felt as he felt - and yes, she most _certainly_ did.

"I don't want to do anything you're uncomfortable with, lass," he explained, stroking her fingers. "I know that this whole...thing...has been fast and I know you don't exactly have fond memories regarding what's supposed to happen next."

Emma heart pounded at his remark, remembering the night of their impromptu engagement when she told him about Neal. Killian had listened so intently when she told him how she'd fallen for the son of the town's miller and he gave her a patient nod when she explained how their courtship would have been forbidden. He bit back his obvious jealousy when she told him how Neal had taken her virginity late one evening by the riverbank and how they'd planned to avoid her arranged marriage by running away together. Killian held her hand when she told him about the attack on her kingdom's outlying village and how nearly every home had been burned to the ground. He even brought her into his arms when she told him how she had learned of Neal's death shortly afterward and how that heartbreak had drawn battle lines between her and the idea of being anyone's wife.

Well, until she met a man who'd saved her life in the highlands. _Twice_.

"I know," she said softly. "But we _do_ have to, Killian-"

"We _don't_ , Swan."

"How would you propose we would ever get away with that?"

"We could….lie," he offered, giving her a sad half smile. "Or something?"

"While the plan of _'or something'_ sounds rather promising," Emma smiled. "I doubt the clan would buy that. Do you….not want to?"

"That's not it at all," he promised with wide eyes. "I just want you to be sure. I know you don't love me, lass….not like you loved him. I don't know if you ever will be able to do such a thing, but Emma, I can promise you _this_ \- you have my name, my clan, my family, and if necessary, the protection of my body as well."

There it was again. That look of pure, unexpected, undeserved love and affection. This man who she barely knew and who barely knew her was prepared to lay down his life - his _everything_ \- for the wife he never planned on acquiring. It wasn't just because of honor. It was because it was _her_.

"Killian," Emma said softly, tears in her eyes. "I do. I do love you."

"You do?"

She nodded, a response that made it seem like she'd handed him the world wrapped in a giant bow. His eyes shifted to a crystal blue she hadn't seen before and his thumb ran across hers as he tightened his hold. The smirk that was so characteristic of him bloomed into a grin that made Emma's breath heavy in her throat. It suddenly became clear just how much he needed to hear her admission.

"You don't….I don't want you to feel like….well, like you _have_ to say it….just because I did-"

"Killian, you _saved_ me," she told him as she lifted her hand to his jaw. "I was so….lost when I got here and I was terrified - but you _found_ me."

"I'll always find you, princess," he promised, smiling into her touch.

"I love you, Killian," she finally said. "I'm _in_ love with you."

Emma was waiting for a sweet retort or some heart tugging sentiment - since he seemed to have a monopoly on those - but it never came. Instead, he descended forward, his fingertips in her hair at the base of her neck as his lips fused to hers. His mouth moved slowly and with an expertise that had only been suggested by the necessary peck that had sealed their vows. Emma melted into him, her body weakening as a soft hand landed at her waist and he coaxed her upward onto the bed. She reached for his belt, unhitching it fast as it dropped to the floor with a loud sound. His gaze was predatory as the plaid covering his legs fell to the floor and he crawled toward her with a grin. Emma felt her skirt catch briefly on the blanket, the lace snagging on the fabric underneath them before he slid her upward.

"Bloody thing anyway," he murmured into the kiss, pulling on the bottom of her gown until it rose up to her knees. "There - better, aye?"

"Mmmm," Emma sighed, running her hands over his trimmed beard as he hovered above her. "Where'd you learn to kiss like that?"

"I said I was a virgin, Swan - not a monk," he grinned, nipping at her lower lip. "If I need guidance, I'll ask."

His hand was on fire as it grazed her bare thigh and Emma gasped as his kiss resumed. She reached up to tangle her hands in his shaggy head of dark hair and he growled softly. God, he wasn't lying - he knew _exactly_ what he was doing. She could kiss him for hours - without pause until the revolution ended honestly. Time was of no matter or substance when his lips were tending to hers.

He turned, acting as if he might roll so his hips would match hers. Emma was surprised when he moved to the edge of the bed and fell cautiously to his knees. His hands moved roughly on the fabric as he shoved it up further around her waist and peered up at her. His stare simmered with intent and through the building haze, Emma somehow deciphered what he was about to do.

"Killian…. _wait-_ "

"Mmmm, but fair is fair," he smirked, his breath scorching her inner thighs. "I want to watch you."

Emma felt her entire body set ablaze as Killian slowly slid his tongue along her skin, his teeth catching gently on the path his mouth followed until his breath hovered over her. He dropped his head heavily and kissed a gentle trail of kisses downward until his lips parted, giving him a second to yank her closer. With his palms heavy on her thighs, he glanced up at her before his tongue drifted forward to taste her. Emma let out a breathy moan as his mouth caressed her more intimately than she knew was possible. His head tilted from side to side as she buried her fingertips in his scalp. He was so attentive to her every sound and every shift that Emma was sure of only one thing.

Killian Jones might be a virgin, but he was _definitely_ a god.

"Oh - _oh_ , Killian…. _yes_ , right….right _there_ …."

Emma's pleas were scarcely audible but desperate nonetheless and they seemed to encourage him further. He groaned against her as her hips set into a frenzy, lifting up to grind against the movement of his mouth. His hands held her tight as her body tingled and his tongue pressed a little harder.

" _Killian…_."

His name had barely hit the air when she fell, her loud moan echoing softly into the high ceiling of the dimly lit room. He continued his gentle caresses as his mouth brought her down slowly. Dropping limply back against the cushioned bed, Emma drifted into a sated state as he moved to the bed to pull her into his arms. He nuzzled her neck, burying his face in her long blonde waves as he pulled her close. She relaxed in his hold, almost sure she could spend the rest of her life in that exactly position while shoving time travel and alternate universes aside. But feeling him shift with a slight sigh, Emma was curious at to what was reeling in his head - because yes, _something_ had to be.

"Mmmm," she breathed, her eyes fluttering at she met his elated stare. "Hi."

"To you as well, love," he laughed, placing a kiss on her nose. "You okay?"

"More than okay," she smiled. "Are you?"

"I am….I just-" he paused, his tongue in his cheek as he blushed. "-I didn't know that women could….does that happen every time?"

"Hmmm," Emma whispered, catching the clue behind his question. "Only if a man is a very good lover."

"Then I suppose that's what I shall endeavor to be," he grinned. "Tired?"

"A little," Emma admitted as she toyed with his fingers. "I'm still trying to figure out how you became so well versed in the use of that mouth….well, I _mean-_ "

"I know what you mean," he smirked, bringing her hand to his lips. "You weren't the first lass I've kissed, princess, but I swear you'll be the last."

"Mmmm," Emma pondered as she looked up at him. "Because you married me?"

"Partly, yes," he explained sweetly. "But more so because I wanted you more than I ever wanted anything in my life."

Emma saw it for the millionth time in days - that glow that radiated from him when he spoke of her. This man who she was sure she'd been a royal pain in the arse to many times over the past weeks had somehow fallen for her. No, he'd completely _lost_ himself in her - _that_ was a far more accurate depiction.

"Killian?"

"Hmmm?"

"Does it….bother you? That I'm not a virgin?"

"Not so long as it doesn't bother you that I am," he said after a moment. "I reckon that one of us should probably know what they're doing."

"True," Emma agreed. "Although, you don't appear to be sorely undereducated."

" _Ah_ , well, that's reassuring I must say," he answered, biting his lip. "I was worried….I want not to disappoint you, Emma."

"Not possible," she promised him. "I love you, Killian - you'll have a hard time ever being able to disappoint me."

"And I - you, Emma," he grinned, kissing her softly. "More than you shall ever know."

She felt her heart swell immensely at that - the honesty of his words seemed to do that to her endlessly. She'd never known men of such romantic stature, but Killian spoke in poetry and sentiments that one only reads of. He was a true gentleman in every sense of the term and Emma wasn't sure who'd tipped fortune in her favor so much when she landed in his arms. Of all the places she could have ended up and of all the timelines she could have interrupted, she spun her way into the one where _he_ was her immediate counterpart. If fate had a face, she was almost sure it looked like the one currently staring back at her.

"Will you tell me about your family?"

"Okay," he laughed, kissing her shoulder as she snuggled against him. "How many generations back?"

"Your parents will do."

"Aye," he said after a minute. "Well, my father was a Jones man as well."

"Of course," Emma smiled.

"My older brother too," he continued. "We sailed the wide open sea with him for a time as lads…."

His voice carried itself through the history of his clan, his tone changing here and there as he illustrated the events of his youth clear up to when he came to Scotland. He was charming and animated, a born storyteller like many men of the era. It was a odd yet intimate scene as they laid nestled together, his hands dancing up and down her skin as they shared in the conversation of getting to know one another. Emma could have listened to his voice until the war ceased, knowing with certainty that an accent like that was capable of igniting peace during conflict. The candlelight near the bedside flickered, causing them to stir from relaxation simultaneously.

"Emma - hey," he coaxed softly, rising to his feet to relight the flame. "It's getting late, love."

"It is," she sighed, propping herself up on her elbows. "We should probably go to bed."

"To bed-" he started, raising an eyebrow. "-or to _sleep_?"

"Umm," Emma blushed with a shrug. "Well…."

He gave her that silly half smirk, the one she'd seen during moments where he clearly found her amusing. The cut of his jawline was sharp against the shadows left by the dull lighting and the shirt he'd been left in when his kilt hit the floor was sheer while nearly reaching his knees. Emma allowed her mind to wander a moment as she calculated just how easy it would be to remove his remaining clothing, finally allowing her a glimpse of the man that was underneath - since she definitely hadn't been imagining _that_ for longer than was proper to admit.

"Well, either way, you aren't going to be sleeping in your corsets now," he smiled, gesturing for her to get up. "I'll help you with the laces and such….if you want?"

"Okay," Emma replied, slightly shakier than intended. "Skirts first?"

"Aye."

Emma found her feet quickly, lifting her eyes to his before turning as he reached for the ties that criss crossed down her back. The lower part of the dress tumbled to the floor as Emma's mind filled with gratitude that Ruby hadn't goaded her into to wearing an overly pompous gown. His hands skimmed her back, trailing excruciating slow up her arm as he leaned to place a kiss on her shoulder. Emma spun back to face him as his touch lingered with a fire that showed no signs of faltering.

He said nothing as his fingertips found the laces that tied the front of the thin layer under the dress. Emma shivered under the warm brush of his hand as the final part of the corset became victim to his deft touch. He tugged on the ties with a smirk, his fingers loosening them in a pulling back and forth motion as his face took on a look of feigned exasperation. She blushed at that, biting her lip when his gaze shifted a shade darker. His fingers toyed with the small slit on the neck of the fabric and he focused hypnotically as his touch slipped between the cloth to land on her bare skin. Emma's breath hitched with a slight shudder as he caressed her breast gently. The intrigue on his face was beautiful and it was all Emma to do to keep her knees steady.

"Killian…."

"Hmmm?"

"It's….my turn."

He nodded, stepping back just slightly with a sympathetic look. It was cute really - how much he wanted her to be comfortable. It wasn't as if she could feel any other way with him.

"Take off your shirt," she said, a bit more demanding than she meant to be. "I….want to look at you."

He tugged the white shirt over his head, the fabric dragging across his hair to ruffle it into a shaggy mess. He tossed it to the wood floor below as he raised his eyebrows in search of her approval. Emma didn't know if she could actually give him that - at least not to the extent he deserved. Killian Jones was far too handsome for just words.

Her fingers reached for his as his eyes followed her motion, studying her touch like a well known book that couldn't be put down. Emma allowed herself to circle him once as she memorized his body - the scars on his arms and back from battle, the contours of his shoulder blades, the lines of his collarbone. She couldn't help the way her eyes flickered downward to the hard length standing at attention against his thigh. Saying a silent prayer that her eyes hadn't given too much away, Emma tried to remember how to breathe. She had lived this moment in her mind a few times before, but now as she stood before him, she realized just how much she underestimated it.

"Well," he started, his nerves returning. "Turnabout's fair play. Take yours off as well?"

Emma moved automatically, reaching for the hem of the last bit of clothing covering her. She lifted it and shook out her hair as the final piece of her dress landed near his shirt on the ground. He straightened slightly, taking in her naked form with careful eyes - although the fire building in them was fairly obvious.

"Have you-" Emma said softly. "-never seen a naked woman before?"

"Aye, but not one so close," he laughed shakily, that cheeky smile taking up his lips. "And not one that's _mine_."

Their kiss reignited almost before he could finish his very brief admission, their lips moving in a hurried fashion as his hands set into frantic exploration. His touch seared up and down her back, pressed hard between her shoulder blades as her bare breasts brushed against the coarse hair on his chest. Sliding his palms down the back of her thighs, he squeezed her legs softly and Emma lifted to her tiptoes as he pulled her upward. Her legs wrapped around his waist with a tight grip and he braced her body against his as he carried her back toward the bed.

The flames in the nearby fireplace crackled softly as Killian sat on the edge of the blankets, her legs on either side of him as she anchored herself in his lap. He kissed her hard and with a fervor she would gladly live on for the rest of their lives. Drowning in his kiss, Emma let out a startled sound when he flipped them so his hips covered hers. The furs covering the bed were soft on her back and she was sure she was going to be quite thankful for that later.

" _Emma…_."

He breathed her name like a prayer, his eyes fluttering closed as her wet center rubbed against him. Emma could feel how much he desired her - and she finally admitted just how much she needed him. A soft moan escaped her as he stared down at her, their eyes melting into one another's as the moment froze.

"Does it….ever stop, love?"

"Does what ever stop?"

"The _wanting_ you," he whispered, sliding inside her with a deep thrust. "Because I….want you so much my chest feels tight. My fingers ache to touch you, Emma."

"Then have me," Emma pleaded as she reached for his shoulder blades. "God, Killian, _please_ have me."

He groaned at the way she was all but begging, pleasure radiating between her thighs as he started to move. His hips worked rhythmically as they pushed hard into hers. The drag of every single thrust was enough to make her walls contract, causing him to grunt once or twice as she throbbed around him.

"Bloody _hell_ ," he said in that deliciously tormented tone. "You feel like heaven, love. So….good."

"Oh, don't stop…. _never_ ….stop," she cried, holding herself together by a thin thread. " _Harder,_ Killian. Please - I….I want _more_."

"Yes, love…. _yes_ …."

Her legs dropped open further with each effort of his lower body, forcing him deeper and pulling the ecstasy from her writhing body. He braced his hands on the sides of her head, slamming into her with abandon as he gripped the plush fur covering the bed. Emma's hands found the bare expanse of his back, holding on as he drove in and pulled out. It was passionate and powerful, something she had never even imagined intimacy could be.

"Emma, I want to…. _god_ , are you close? Tell me, my love... _please_ tell me you-"

Her answer was lost on her tongue as she let go, her composure fading as she came hard with a near scream. He shoved forward once, twice, and a final time before he found release, pulsing inside her as she clenched around his generous length. She could felt him empty himself and every ounce of love inside of her before he collapsed on top of her boneless body. Emma let her eyes close as she regained the air in her lungs, her fingertips wandering up and down his shoulders as they each searched for stability.

The glow of the room dwindled as he held her, eventually rolling sideways with a sigh as she nuzzled his chest. His heartbeat was steady as his rising and falling breath lulled her into a daze she could easily get accustomed to. Several mumbled words that Emma now recognized as the Gaelic language fell from his lips.

"Mmmm," she said softly. "What did you say?"

"I thought my heart was gonna burst," he laughed, placing a kiss against her hair.

Emma grinned against his bare skin, wondering if he knew that such a statement made her feel that same sort of wonder. He truly had a way with words - romantic, beautiful, thoughtful words.

"Love?"

"Yes?"

"Can we….I just-" he swallowed hard, something that prompted her full attention. "-I wanted to tell you that I. uh…."

"Hey," she coaxed softly. "What's wrong?"

"It's just….when all of this is over….when the war ends," he paused, biting his lip. "I want you to know that I will help you, lass. If you want to go home, I'll help you find a way."

Emma didn't miss the hesitation in his voice or just how much effort he had to fight to put into that weak half smile he offered her. It made her heart sink into her stomach - the thought of leaving him hadn't crossed her mind in quite some time. As she watched his eyes flicker between various shades of blue, she realized just how much that possibility had been haunting him. She didn't have to look too hard to see that losing her would break him into a mess of jagged pieces.

Emma's heart pounded in her eyes as she resolved that she wouldn't let anything of the sort happen to this man - to her _husband_. Not when he and _they_ were finally whole.

"Killian - listen to me," she said quietly, her hand resting on his jaw. "I don't need you to find any way for me to go anywhere. I don't need to go home - I already _am_."

A weight appeared to drift from his body as he leaned in to kiss her slowly and in a magnetic moment that she'd never even _dream_ of leaving behind. No, this was it - this was her life now. _This_ was her happy ending.

"As am I, Emma," he smiled. "You are my home now, princess."

"Good," she grinned. "But _don't_ call me princess, you _bloody_ outlander."

"Very well, lass," he laughed, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "Very well."


	6. Not So Secret Serenades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some musician!Killian and a little neighbor smut :] originally posted on Tumblr as a Christmas fic for timeless-love-story! Rated M on this one.

The first time it happened, Emma had been nothing short of startled.

Her feet had been through the grueling process of dragging themselves home after chasing down a particularly stealthy target and she’d plodded like a zombie up the flights of far too many steps to her apartment, totally oblivious to lights on in the vacant apartment across the way and the stack of boxes off to the side of the stairway as she reached her floor. She didn’t have the time _or_ energy to wonder about the purpose behind such little oddities, so she opted not to while tossing her keys and what was left of her stamina onto the kitchen counter. Uncorking a chilled bottle of wine in slow motion, she had poured a glass with gratitude before flopping down on the sofa. The night hadn’t yet moved into a late hour and she clicked on the television at a fairly low volume, settling in to drown in whatever cheesy romantic comedy was halfway over before sleep overcame her.

Well, _until_ the peace and quiet of her cozy loft was shattered by the loud strum of an electric guitar, reverberating from across the small courtyard that separated one side of the building from the other.

Her _extremely_ red beverage found itself in the state of spilled instantly, landing mostly on the wood floor below aside from the splash of stain on her inconveniently light gray sweater. With an exasperated sigh, she had slammed the stemmed glass on her end table and staggered to her exhausted feet. Who in the _deepest_ depths of hell was making such a racket at…. _well_ , at eight o’clock at night? Okay, _okay_ \- the noise wasn’t as inappropriate as Emma felt it was, especially on a Saturday evening - but _that_ was beside the point.

Suddenly wide awake, Emma plodded toward the sliding glass that led out onto the small balcony and peeked out of the quickly opened entrance. She was glad the landlord kept the courtyard well lit - it would make her plan of attack easier for sure. The distance from her windows to the ones across the open air space wasn’t much and the sound - although a bit calmer now - hadn’t ceased enough to be ignored. She sighed in annoyance once more before she began to deliberate on exactly how to retaliate. There were several clear cut facts that she settled with as she stormed back inside, scouring her cupboards for something to throw that wouldn’t shatter the glass of the adjacent loft.

She had a new neighbor - one who was _apparently_ a musician with a death wish.

Her fingers landed on an opened bag of jumbo marshmallows, ones she’d purchased a month or so ago during the course of a hot chocolate binge. Of course, her inability to seal the bag had left them a _bit_ stale, but perhaps that was to her advantage. _Time to make an impression_ , she mused as she snagged them. Well, hopefully one that would allow her to call the shots without cracking the sliding door.

Stepping back onto the chilly top floor porch, Emma squinted as she lined up to throw. She found herself thankful for years of playing darts after hours at the bar down the street when the large marshmallow smacked the door with a dull echo. _Gotcha_ , she smiled as she threw another. A third pelted the window of the recently rented place before she could muster up an argument, something she _instantly_ regretted as the outdoor light flipped on and the deck door was flung open to reveal the man who’d just moved in.

Jesus _Christ_ \- talk about brilliant, bold, blue beyond _blue_ and quite frankly _beautiful_ eyes. Emma felt herself melt into them, her knees going a little weak as she wondered how she could possibly even see them in the growing darkness - well, until a slow smirk spread over his lips as he bent down to pick up her weapon of choice. Ignoring how playful and perplexed his glance looked, she slid her hands to her hips in preparation for an interesting first meeting.

“Hi.”

Giving herself a hard and much needed internal slap, she tried to avoid the wealth of awful embarrassment filling her cheeks at the single word she’d chosen to start her rant. Ripping her gaze from his enticing one for a second, she laid eyes on the guitar hanging sideways around his neck. It was a deep red color, trimmed with white and currently _unplugged_. Thank _god_.

“Hi,” he said in return, a charming lilt in his voice. “You must be 3C.”

“Yeah, I’m….Emma, _actually_ ,” she replied, offering a calmer expression than she meant to. “Emma Swan.”

“Killian Jones,” he told her sweetly, gesturing to his idle musical instrument. “Or as you’re probably about to call me - the obnoxious musician that lives across the courtyard.”

“Oh, umm, _well_ ,” she stuttered. “Maybe a little.”

“Apologies, lass,” he offered, scratching behind his ear. “Just checking how the windows and walls handle a little noise- and they are, obviously, not as soundproof as I preferred.”

Emma felt herself deflate a bit, her desire to tear him and his guitar apart quickly fading. She didn’t know if it was his unexpected accent or his understanding gaze that caused the ceasefire, but suddenly, giving him a piece of her mind was the _last_ thing on her mind.

“I guess not,” she agreed, laughing slightly. “Which normally I wouldn’t mind….I just….wasn’t expecting to hear the hint of a rock concert tonight when I got home.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if anyone was around when I moved in,” he explained. “No lights on over there from what I could glean….so I suppose that means you work late?”

“Occasionally. Tonight - yes.”

“As do I,” he said with a smile that really wasn’t helping. “Well, if you can call playing the occasional show over at The Rabbit Hole any sort of actual work.”

“Well, it sure sounds like it could be.”

Oh, _hell_. Emma wanted to smack herself for using such a remark, one that _might_ be interpreted as flirtatious. The manner in which he straightened his shoulders and tilted his head just barely told her he was _definitely_ considering it to be such.

“So is this you saying that you might be-” he paused, raising an eyebrow as he leaned on the railing. “-a music fan of sorts?”

Emma rocked back on her heels, carefully pondering her retort this time before opening her mouth. She didn’t know him - didn’t really even _want_ to know him. There wasn’t really any reason for him to learn about her preferences in _any_ category, but as she scanned his stance from his black button down shirt down the length of his faded jeans to his almost adorable bare feet, she found she _wanted_ to tell him. What the hell was _this_ \- and who in the hell _was_ this guy?

“Perhaps,” Emma started, slowly building a weak wall between them. “But maybe the kind that’s just a _little_ quieter.”

“Ah, _got_ it,” he conceded as he stopped his analyzation. “I’ll be sure to keep the volume to a lower level, love.”

Emma smiled politely, ignoring the way his bicep flexed as his hand gripped the side of the door frame. She turned to create some air between herself and her new neighbor, determined but failing to keep from looking back at him once more as she lingered in her own doorway.

“Goodnight, Swan.”

His smirk found its way back quickly as Emma bit her lip, watching him shut the way into his new home almost too slowly. Watching him turn the blinds as he continued to look her way, Emma let out a quiet gasp.

 _Goodnight to you too_ , she thought silently with the shake of her head.

###### 

The second time she heard it was the following night, right in the process of enjoying her evening off and flipping her grilled cheese that was sizzling on the stovetop. Her eyes widened as she jerked her head in the direction of his dim apartment. The curtains into his bedroom hung part way open and he sat on the edge of what looked like a rather comfortable bed, his guitar propped in his lap.

Reminding herself that it didn’t matter how cozy his comforter looked, Emma strolled to the window near her kitchen table and reached forward to quietly slide it open. The screen shielding the air outside didn’t do much for dulling the soft notes drifting from his equally open glass - and she fell right into an unwanted trance as she listened to the gentle tune the strings provided. His voice was absent though he’d mentioned he performed regularly - obviously he _could_ sing. She wondered why he wasn’t as she leaned on the sill, subconsciously humming the words she recalled from years ago.

_Though nothing, will keep us together,_

_We could steal time,_

_Just for one day._

Emma had to stare carefully, narrowing her view in order to watch his fingertips glide across the guitar. A relaxed, happy curve of his lips made her wonder what his mind was doing as he played. She allowed her own thoughts to consider him and the possible reason he’d chosen this melody. Did he do it to honor their volume agreement? Did he _know_ she was listening - _or_ watching?

There really wasn’t a way to know for sure, but as his mouth parted and barely audible vocals filled the night air, Emma thought that perhaps he hoped she _could_ hear him.

She closed her eyes for a moment, soaking in the song and the way his singing seemed to wrap around the lyrics with beautiful skill. She didn’t expect this when she first met him. She didn’t want to believe he was talented - well, _quite_ beyond that from what she was now witnessing.

_We could be heroes,_

_Forever and ever._

“Yeah, what’d you say?” she whispered to herself, the song’s last line escaping her automatically.

God _dammit_. This was _not_ going to turn out well.

###### 

The rest of the week passed in a blur of daylight, her busy schedule keeping her on her toes and aware of her every move. It was the nights that filled her with distraction - and it was diversion created by Killian Jones, the neighborly man who had fallen into the unknown task of lulling her into total relaxation.

On night six, he turned up the sound just a bit - _maybe_ enough to catch her attention, though she didn’t want to assume. Emma was in the process of trying to figure out how many stray socks she’d lost to her temperamental washing machine when she caught the noise. Her smirk was unavoidable as she moved back to her stealthy spot at the kitchen window, praying that he’d left the shades open. She smiled when she noticed he had, but she laughed when she saw what he was doing.

In a pair of ridiculous striped socks, he was all but _dancing_ around the wood floors of his front room, guitar hanging at his waist as he played with adorable vigor. The speakers sounded with a tune she _definitely_ knew.

_All right now, baby, it’s a-all right now._

_All right now, baby, it’s a-all right now._

She covered her stare, shaking her head in humor as he belted out the words a _bit_ more dramatically than was needed. He carried on like a total _idiot_ for the remainder of the performance, his body swaying as his pitch remained steady. The grin that cracked up her face was out of control and Emma thanked some higher power for the lack of moonlight outside, the darkness suggesting that she could watch him in concealment.

Well, until his head snapped up and he stared _right_ at her. Oh _shit_ , she’d left her hallway light on - and it provided just enough illumination for him to _know_ she was there. He laughed, a sound she barely heard but knew he’d given away before bowing in stupid appreciation.

Emma tugged her own blinds closed, trying to decide if it would be possible to hide under her floorboards until his lease was up. Deciding she’d prefer to not lose her safety deposit on her own place to new flooring, she flopped into bed pulled the blankets over her dizzied head. _That_ would have to do for now.

###### 

Night twelve - though she was trying with every _ounce_ of sanity to avoid it and him - led her to a different sort of interaction. In an effort to busy herself and find a few chances to vacate her home, Emma trampled down the several flights of steps to the mailboxes. She began turning her key while mumbling the melody of some song he’d sung a day or so ago - some ballad from the 80’s that she couldn’t quite remember the name of. It was catchy enough and had plagued her during her last stakeout, almost as much as the idea of the man himself had. There was something about him - something that the music was hiding. Emma couldn’t quite put her own finger on it, but as she watched him move his multiple fingers in a pattern over the guitar, she just…. _felt_ it.

Killian Jones was a kindred spirit - broken and bent in a way she recognized all too well.

Flipping through the numerous ads and small stack of junk mail she’d retrieved from the box, Emma began to shake her hips to the words in her head as she determined which envelopes to toss and which to tear into.

“Evening, Swan.”

 _Oh, dear god_ , she thought as her movement ceased and her feet froze to the ground before she peered up at him. He was wearing his usual heart stopping grin, his hair slightly damp and his legs bare save for the dark blue shorts that stretched to his knees. She stared hard at his white shirt and the way it clung to his toned arms courtesy of a light sweat, proof that he was returning from some sort of physical activity. Watching him tug his headphones from his ears, Emma tried not to imagine what he’d look like in the throes of _another_ sort of strenuous task - one where he’d be offering a little less smugness and a little more…. _well_ , you know.

“Oh, h-hey,” she stuttered, breezing past him with feigned disinterest. “I’m just….just had to grab my mail.”

“I can see that,” he nodded with an arched eyebrow. “It’s nice to see you out and about and not just….behind the glass.”

Emma’s stomach hit the floor at his comment - of _course_ he’d confront her with that. It was only a matter of time before she’d run into him and have to face the not so literal music. Her mind reeled with admissions and exclusions - just how much _did_ he know about her frequent observations?

“Yeah, I guess….it’s good to see you too,” she deflected. “I should go though. I’ve got, _uh_ , a few things to do before-”

“The regularly scheduled show?”

 _Dammit_. He obviously wasn’t going to be cutting her any breaks. She headed for the stairs with an expression that was probably cloaked in red and total humiliation.

“Hey, Emma?”

She turned with a sigh to acknowledge him, trying not to hinge on the movement of his fingers as he twisted the cord of his iPod. She needed to get out of there.

“If I _knew_ you liked 80’s hits this much,” he chided, allowing his grin to spread wide. “I would have included them in the lineup from the start.”

“Didn’t you do that anyway, David Bowie?”

He straightened his posture, a bit shocked at her comeback before chuckling a bit. God, did he always have to try _so_ hard to hold the upper hand?

“I suppose so,” he shrugged. “But I’m open to requests _anytime_ , love.”

“Oh, _please_ ,” Emma rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t handle it, Jones.”

“Hmmm,” he mused, staggering toward her just enough. “Perhaps _you’re_ the one who couldn’t handle it.”

Emma’s mouth dropped open a bit, hanging slightly agape as she allowed her eyes to wander the length of his lean frame. She tried to summon that annoyance that she’d honestly never really had for him, but it didn’t manifest in the slightest. Emma toyed with the ends of her hair before replying, that stupid song still floating around in her head.

“I guess we’ll see.”

She couldn’t linger to see what cleverness he’d throw back at her so she decided to set a new record for time required to scale the multiple stairs to her loft. Emma slammed the door behind herself with a sly smile - and _no_ , the reason it remained on her face well throughout the evening was _not_ because his guitar offered more than one Pearl Jam hit until she dozed off. For some reason, Emma slept better than she had in weeks.

###### 

That had to be the reason - the _only_ reason - that she was even considering taking him up on his invitation a few nights later. They’d bumped into one another post grocery run that morning. Well, at least that’s what Emma had been doing. Killian in his well worn flannel and laced up Converse was strolling in from some sort of music something, his guitar flung over his shoulder as evidence. Emma adjusted her eco-friendly tote of produce on her arm, realizing it was Saturday and he was probably setting up for a show at the bar.

“Swan,” he’d said sweetly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Nice to see you. It’s been a few days.”

“Yeah, I guess it has,” Emma agreed, trying to forget the fact that he’d sung her to sleep several nights in a row even though they hadn’t spoken for days. “I’ve been busy….haven’t been home much actually.”

“Well, busy is good I suppose,” he replied, nodding toward her bag. “It’s reassuring to see that you’re finding time for a little basic nutrition despite the packed schedule.”

“Since I….don’t usually?”

She sidestepped just slightly, a little uncomfortable at the way he continued to see through her. Who _exactly_ did Killian Jones think he was? She’d still yet to figure that out.

“I’ve watched you throw your fair share of pizza boxes down the garbage chute, love,” he teased. “Plus I’m fairly sure there’s still a marshmallow or two rolling around on my balcony.”

“Oh, please,” Emma huffed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t _even_ throw that many - I was tired and I really didn't feel like walking over to pound down your front door so I just had to find a way to get your attention.”

“Well, it worked,” he grinned, a strange sincerity in his expression. “Maybe you’ll allow me a chance to do the same?”

“ _Ummm_ , what….do you mean?”

He reached into his back pocket, tugging out a folded up flyer from his jeans. Emma arched a mystified eyebrow at him as she reached for it while trying not to return his quite characteristic smirk. Her sight scanned the paper quickly, recognizing the name of the bar down the block as well as some bands she hadn’t heard of next to a bold text that was possibly an offer - Saturday at 8PM.

“I don’t know if you’re working tonight - crime never sleeps and all that,” he started, suddenly looking very nervous. “But if not, you should swing by. You might even find that the setlist is…. _slightly_ different than what you’re used to.”

She blushed furiously as his reference to the private shows he seemed to play for her at night, the songs and sweet sounds drifting from his open window across the courtyard. She’d grown to expect it and to _like_ it more than was fair, but seeing him play something publicly would be _different_ \- and maybe a _dangerous_ type of different.

“Oh, well….maybe,” Emma finally said, her hand pulling the flyer closer with intent to keep it. “I’ll see if I can make it.”

He’d smiled at that - an honest, happy, really-hope-you-might-be-serious kind of smile. It was a sight she’d only seen a few times before and as he headed up the stairs, humming the tune of that _‘All About The Bass’_ song that played constantly on the radio. Emma had rolled her eyes at his choice of material, but stared down at the paper again as her mind began debating desperately with itself.

Some part of her had lost the argument and that was the exact reason she was standing in front of her full length mirror at 8:03 that night, her fingers clutching the flyer as she tried to decide what the bar’s dress code was. Normally, she wouldn’t have thought so much about it - she’d thrown on a pair of jeans and a tight top before meeting some friends for a beer many times before. This time though, it was Killian who’d asked her to come. She wasn’t sure why, but that fact made _this_ something else.

The little pub wasn’t far from their apartment building and the walk would give Emma a moment to compose herself - well, at least she’d hoped so. Her feet clicked on the sidewalk, constantly making her question whether or not black heels were a good decision. She’d selected something a bit less casual, but she felt comfortable in the fit jeans and the low cut white v-neck. Her dangling swan pendant complimented the plunging neckline and she’d allowed her hair to tumble down her back in loose waves. When she finally reached the double doors outside and checked her phone to read a time of 8:18, she could only hope she looked more casual than she felt.

A steady rhythm was already flowing from the speakers as she moved inside though she didn’t recognize the singing of the musician behind the microphone. She decided it best to start navigating her way to the bar for a drink before facing the man and the music she’d somehow come here for. She caught the attention of the bartender with a quick wave and a friendly grin. She and August went way back.

“Hey, Em,” he smiled, arriving at the counter in front of her. “Been a while. Something to drink?”

“Yeah, let me get a beer?”

“You got it,” he nodded, uncapping a bottle and handing it to her. “Here to watch Killian?”

“Oh,” Emma paused, setting the bottle down as she reaching into her pocket for some cash. “Did he….I, _uh_ , how’d you know….why would you think _that?”_

“He said you might stop in,” August laughed, enjoying her flustered reaction way too much. “Told me to put anything you ordered on his tab.”

“You don’t have to do that-”

“Yeah….I think I will though,” August insisted, tilting his head with curiosity. “You know - Killian’s a good guy, Em. He’s been playing here regularly for a couple years. I didn’t realize you knew him until he mentioned you tonight.”

“ _Mentioned_ me?”

Oh, _god_ \- what had he said about her? Emma toyed with the beer cap August had set down, tapping it on the wood before he stole it back.

“Yeah,” August confirmed. “He said he’d invited you in an effort to ‘change your mind about the volume’ - I believe that’s how he put it. Whatever that means.”

“I…. _see_ ,” Emma said softly after a moment, smirking up at him. “Thanks, August. I’ll catch you later.”

He saluted her humorously as she turned back toward the stage with zero time to prepare for a new view. Her eyes fixed on him almost immediately - and had _never_ been so grateful that she had a firm grip on her drink.

His hair was handsomely disheveled, more so than usual but in a way she wasn’t finding unappealing at all. He was wearing a navy and red flannel with jeans that hung just right on his obviously toned legs. A cream colored henley peeked out of the loosely done buttons of his shirt and his sneakered feet moved back then forward on the stage as he pulled his pick across a few strings. The way his lips curved up upon striking the correct chord was mesmerizing and Emma watched him with dedication as he bent to plug in his guitar.

Holy _hell_ \- this man would be the death of her.

She didn’t hear much of what he said to the crowd - in fact, she didn’t hear much for the next hour except the smooth music his skilled hands created and the lyrics that left his lips as the lights danced across the stage. Emma’s stare was heavy as she took in every little thing he did - the calculated movements of his fingertips, the way he bit his lip when he was playing a brief solo, and the tempting manner in which he smiled against the microphone when he sang. She’d never seen him in this state of passion and pure bliss, but it made her want to witness it more. She wanted to know more about this man and the music that seemed to drive him.

It didn’t even take until the final note of what appeared to be the last song for Emma to decide that she was going to take the steps to do just that.

“Thank you for coming out, everybody - you’ve all been brilliant,” he said loudly when the sound faded. “It took some slight convincing, but my band here’s going to let me play our last song on my own….”

The gathered group of people near the stage let out an excited uproar, clapping and whistling filling the room in a way that made Emma’s stomach flutter. Killian laughed to himself, looking down to swap his current instrument for his acoustic one. He instantly looked even more at ease as he grabbed the guitar pick he’d been holding with his teeth and let out a deep sigh. The second his eyes moved back to the crowd, that steel blue stare fusing to her almost as if he’d known _exactly_ where she was standing the entire time. _Of course he knew_ , Emma thought as she folded her arms carefully.

“This is a song that reminds me of someone who once told me that she didn’t think I could handle a request-” he started, tossing her a charming glance. “-and though you didn’t make one, _Emma_ , I hope you’ll take this as a reminder that I love a challenge.”

Emma’s heart hit the floor as he started into a series of strums that she immediately knew he’d set aside for her. She adhered her feet to the ground and pressed her lips together in an effort to keep her jaw from dropping. He played the interlude with perfection, assuring her and the listeners that he’d definitely practiced this a few times. The thought of him spending _any_ amount of time planning something for her was hard to fathom, but the words that hit the air seconds later confirmed that he had done so.

_Looking from a window above,_

_It’s like a story of love,_

_Can you hear me?_

Emma felt her entire body tingle as she let the lyrics wash over her, tangled in that ruggedly wonderful accent. She knew this song, _almost_ as well as she'd come to know that adoring look he was giving her through the haze of the music. She didn't know why it took this one single moment to put it all together, but she could hear the melody loud and clear now.

Killian Jones wanted _her_. Killian Jones had perhaps even fallen….for _her_.

_Came back only yesterday,_

_Moving farther away,_

_Want you near me._

His hand moved higher on the neck if the guitar, finding the scattered notes perfectly as he kept his gaze firmly on her. Yes, he was talented - and _damn_ , she was lucky to be the muse behind such a sweet serenading scene.

_All I needed was the love you gave,_

_All I needed for another day,_

_And all I ever knew…._

“Only you,” she whispered, her mouth finding the words she needed to complete his song and her decision all at once.

His expression was full of wonder and complete disbelief as the song drew to a close, the cheers from all sides of the bar not breaking his focus one bit. He set the guitar back on the stand, thanking the wealth of patrons as he tried to keep his eyes on her. Emma moved to set her half empty bottle back on the bartop as he hopped off the stage, moving toward her with intent.

“You made it.”

His grin was contagious, happy and flattered all at once. He shoved his hands in his pockets in a sudden moment of shyness. Had he always been this cute?

“Yeah, I….figured I’d see what all the fuss was about.”

“Oh,” Killian said softly, raising an eyebrow. “See anything you like?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” Emma confirmed. “A few things.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, moving closer. “Is that so?”

He lifted a thumb to brush a stray strand of her hair away from her eye, a scorching blue fire in his eyes. He smirked and her mouth copied his as they locked themselves in a staring contest. Emma was so lost in his expression that she almost didn’t feel the way his smooth fingertips drifted to her arms, tracing the length of her skin as his tongue stroked his lower lip. He was going to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her.

“Well, love,” he said softly, leaning close to her ear. “Would you like to get a drink with me?”

“Maybe,” Emma breathed, desire filling her senses. “Almost as much as I’d like to do this.”

Not able to wait for him to drop the gentleman act, Emma’s hands lifted carefully to his chest as air hitched in her throat. That was all he needed, reaching to tilt her chin up and holding her cheek with a careful caress.

“Killian,” she whispered. “Kiss me.”

She’d barely uttered the words when his lips hit hers with fierce passion, his fingers in her hair as he coaxed her deeper into the kiss. Emma felt like she was going to dissolve into him when his palms slid down her back, pulling her close as his mouth explored hers. He growled something tempting when her teeth skimmed his tongue.

Damn, he could kiss.

“ _Swan_ ,” he stuttered, pulling back just barely. “We can’t….I want….come with me, love - let’s go.”

He tilted his head toward the back door of the bar, his lips swollen and his eyes dark. Emma would have laughed at the picture of this suave man so tortured if she didn’t _feel_ as wrecked as he currently looked.

She wasn’t really sure how they made it back to their apartment building without melting into the sidewalk. He’d held her hand anxiously, smiling at her as they walked and even pausing halfway there to kiss her senseless in the alley just before the crosswalk. By the time they hit the dimly lit lobby, keeping their hands off one another just wasn’t an option.

“Killian,” she gasped, tilting her head back as he pinned her against the wall of mailboxes.  “We should….go upstairs.”

“Aye,” he mumbled as he kissed her neck. “My keys….are still….at the bar, love.”

“My place it is _then_.”

She said it with a devious grin and he pinched her side, chasing her lips with his own. The walk up the steps was a distracted one, his grip landing on her hips as Emma unlocked the door at the fastest speed possible. She fumbled for the lights once inside, but his hands kept her close as her legs bumped the kitchen table. He lifted her automatically, his fingertips teasing her waist as she perched on the edge of the wood surface. Emma grabbed the collar of his shirt a bit more forcefully than intended and he moaned before moving his kisses to her jaw, trailing them down low to her neckline while she ran her fingers through his thick hair.

“ _Killian_ ,” she sighed, biting her lip as his teeth trailed her collarbone. “Bedroom?”

“Perhaps,” he grinned, his eyes drifting upward. “But the view _is_ pretty great right here, isn’t it, Swan?”

Emma followed the path his vision was taking out her kitchen window, watching as he obviously comprehended just how well she’d been able to observe him since he’d moved in. God, she did _not_ need this - his dexterous hands and that thing he kept doing with his tongue were another story though.  

“It’s good to know that you had the option to watch,” he smiled, pulling her hair to the side as he kissed up to her ear. “I hope you took advantage of that, _love_.”

“You’ve seen me before,” Emma stammered, yanking his shirt off his shoulders. “You _know_ I did.”

“True, but perhaps I just like hearing you _say_ it.”

Their lips fused again as almost all of their clothes hit the floor and Emma shivered slightly at the feel of the table’s cool surface on her skin. She wasn’t sure that he’d really do it - that he’d ravish her right _there_ on the kitchen table - but Killian Jones had a way with doing the unexpected.

“You are so-” he said, his breath hot on her skin. “-bloody _beautiful,_ Emma.”

Emma’s eyes fell closed as he kissed her hard, pulling her closer with a barely audible grunt. He took her hands carefully as he guided them to his bare abdomen, sliding them downward to the waist of his boxer briefs - oh, _that’s_ what he wanted. This was going to be _far_ too amusing.

Her fingers moved teasingly and very slowly as they drifted down the chiseled muscles of his torso, followed the path she knew he wanted her to take. He was nearly shaking by the time her hands drifted to his thighs and then back up. She kissed his bare chest, adding a soft bite here and there as she shoved the only fabric left on his body to the ground. She wrapped her hand around him, stroking at a torturous pace that made him groan more than once. Her movements were calculated and sure, setting into a rhythm that would definitely make him desperate. Emma’s eyes flickered up at him and he adjusted his stance, watching her without wavering as her touch danced back up his legs and she took one of his hands between hers.

“ _Love_ ,” he gasped, reveling in the way she moved their joined hands back to his length. “What are you doing?”

“I thought it might be obvious,” she replied, stroking him once more before leaning back. “I’m _watching_.”

He smirked at her little game, obviously a bit surprised but willing to play. His grip moved back and forth in a pattern that mesmerized her as he grew harder in his hand. Emma knew she was giving everything away as her hips rutted up toward him slightly. _Damn_ this man.

“That’s something you’ve become quite good at it would seem,” he breathed, increasing his motion as he placed his free palm on her leg. “But I wonder if you’re just as good at listening as you’ve proven to be at observing.”

“I’ve had a bit of practice with that the past few weeks,” she retorted, letting his lips press themselves to hers again. “But practice makes perfect from what I’ve heard.”

“That it does,” he chuckled, his hand caressing her thigh. “So maybe we should work on it.”

“Good idea,” Emma smiled, her eyelashes fluttering. “I was getting a little tired of watching.”

His eyes went blue with lust and he grinned as she encircled his waist with her legs. Killian lost any control he might have still had almost instantly, his hands cradling her head before he leaned back down to kiss her. The shift in the passion between them was bold as heat radiated in his kiss and his fingers trailed down her thighs, playing her like the strings of his favorite guitar.

“Just a second, lass....”

One hand didn’t leave her as he bent to reach into the pocket of his jeans, his heated touch exploring her skin as she writhed beneath his ministrations. Emma heard the subtle tear of the small packet between his teeth and she looked up at him, trying not to find his messy hair and flushed cheeks too amusing. Her effort wasn’t as valiant as she thought.

“ _Hmmm_. Is something….on your mind, love?”

“Nothing,” she smiled, holding his arms as he leaned forward again. “Just enjoying the view.”

“Quite typical of you, Swan,” he taunted, his lower body grazing hers. “But I thought we were working on listening skills now.”

“Just waiting for you, Jones.”

“Now _that’s_ more like it,” he whispered, nibbling her ear suggestively as he pulled her forward.. “Come _here_ , darling.”

Emma allowed him to drag her gently to the edge of the table, his hard length brushing her inner thigh. He moved carefully but without flaw as he slid inside, his body holding back as she lifted her hands to rest at the back of his scalp. Her fingernails dug in subtly as he began to move and Emma felt her entire body surrender to his touch and the talented thrusting of his hips.

“Bloody _hell_ , love,” he mumbled against her neck as she vibrated against him. “Tell me….what you wa-”

“God, _yes_ \- it’s…. _don’t_ stop, Killian,” she begged, rolling her body up into his. “ _Please_ don’t stop.”

He nodded, his speed increasing as he pulled her tight against him. Their combined motion set them into a frenzied melody, one she wanted to replay over and over. It didn’t take long for her to fall over a most pleasurable edge, his name falling from her mouth in ecstasy. He followed her with a final push of his hips, lifting her to his chest with a moan as he rode out the final notes of the rather sensual symphony. Emma’s head rested helplessly on his chest as he ran his fingers up and down her back, allowing them both to catch their breath.

“Killian,” she finally gasped, dropping her head back to look up at him. “Stay?”

“Is that a request-” he laughed, tickling her spine. “-or a demand?”

“Well, you _did_ say you’d accept requests anytime, right? So we _could_ call it that.”

“Seems fair,” he grinned, kissing her once more. “But I’ve got one as well then.”

“Hmmm,” Emma mused, raising an eyebrow at him. “What do you want?”

“Just to tell you that you’ve _got_ to keep the volume down, love,” he explained, biting back his smile as he gestured to the walls and windows. “I mean, out of respect for your neighbors-”

“Shut _up_ ,” she giggled, nudging him hard. “Or I’ll have to _make_ you shut up.”

“ _Mmmm_ ,” he smirked cleverly, lifting her and pulling her legs around him. “Perhaps _that_ was the idea from the beginning.”

“Yeah, _well_ ,” Emma answered, sighing as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Let’s call it one of your better ones, music man. Now take me to bed.”

“As you wish, love.”


	7. Tempting Tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CS Outlander + Make Up Sex :] needless to say, this one is M rated.

Emma slammed her hairbrush down on the cold counter of the vanity in front of her, the abrupt force causing the mirror just ahead to vibrate slightly. Her head had been pounding for hours as the relentless victim of her gritted teeth and irritated temper. Staring at the glass, she tried to quell the rage that she’d been fighting all day. Yes, the continued, edgy anger she had toward one person - her highlander husband, Killian Jones.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this upset with a man.

An opening door caused her to jump, the sound of the lock being clicked into place moments later once the wood barrier was shut again. His footsteps were steady on the creaking floor and the caution Emma could sense in them was all too appropriate. _He has every reason to be careful,_ she thought silently as she continued to untangle her long blonde locks. Sodding fool.

He paused a few paces away, lingering near the fireplace as he slipped off his boots. Emma spied him quietly out of the corner of her eye as she maintained her stubbornness. It was quiet between them - _almost_ too quiet, but she wasn’t about to break that silence. She had built quite the nice little grudge between them over the past day or so and chipping away at that wasn’t currently something she felt interested in.

“I spoke to Graham,” he said calmly, his tone indifferent as he tossed his satchel on a nearby chair. “He and Robin mended fences over the dealings with rent collections. A mere misunderstanding it would seem. Robin just….struggles with the morals of it I guess. Our lives here are seeped in tradition and ritual, Swan.”

“So I’ve seen.”

The quiet returned as quickly as it had left and Emma’s icy demeanor escalated as she refused to meet his eyes. They were probably quite blue - the same blue that had pulled her close to drown mercilessly in them many times. Her shoulders stiffened as she realized she didn’t need thoughts of _that_ nature right now.

No, right now, she was still seething _mad_.

It had all started mid-daylight yesterday. They’d had a rather trying day on the dirt roads that wound in and out of the Scottish highlands, the green grass and tall cliffs providing the backdrop for the minor scuffle they’d had in the early afternoon. She’d wandered off in exploration, tired of being ordered about by her husband and his directions to ‘stay put’ while he attended to matters with the clan. Tensions had been intense and looming by the time Killian had found her surrounded by the Redcoats, well on her way to being Captain Gold’s prisoner once again. The moment he’d rescued her was a heroic blur, the memory cut into pieces in her mind as she recalled the clang of bayonets and the feel of his firm hand as he pulled her onto his galloping horse. She'd fallen into his warm touch and strong arms with a terrified gasp despite the yells of the enemy lingering behind them. Killian’s heart had pounded fiercely against her back as they rode out of harm’s way and his ragged breath confirmed just how many emotions he was battling. Well, perhaps ‘minor’ was _understating_ the truth.

###### 

_“I’m waiting for you to say something, Emma,” he’d snapped, his posture straight and tense. “Anything that even closely approaches an apology.”_

_“An apology? Killian, I was almost taken hostage by enemy….again. Are you saying this is somehow-”_

_“It is your fault, Swan! Had you stayed where I told you to, none of this would have happened!”_

_“Killian, I begged you to take me with you! I told you that there was no danger in me going along, but why would you ever listen to me? I’m just your wife!”_

_“Women are only fit to-” Killian started, swallowing hard as if he was trying to stomach his own rebuttal. “-to….to listen and obey the orders of their husbands, Swan.”_

_“Well, if that’s what you think,” Emma retorted with flushed cheeks. “Then you are a brute and a fool, Killian Jones.”_

###### 

She’d stormed off, up the hill back in the direction of the other clan members. Robin, who’d noticed her approaching with Killian walking distantly behind, wrangled the men so they could proceed back on their fast paced way. Emma felt the guilt rushing through her veins when she looked at him, the knowledge of how she’d put not just herself but the clan in unnecessary danger dawning on her like the quickly rising sun. She took a deep breath, fighting off tears as she mounted the horse and busied herself with the reins. Killian climbed up behind her, saying nothing as he clicked his tongue to prompt the mare into motion.

They rode for quite some time like that - without words and with unresolved tension. Emma found that the longer they were silent, the more frustrated she grew with her own behavior. As much as it pained her to say it, she’d been wrong. She’d been selfish. Regardless of the argument he’d hastily chosen to offer, _she_ was the one who owed the apology. He’d been quick to accuse, sure - but he was _worried_ about her. The look in his eyes when he lifted her onto the horse so they could leave the vengeful captors behind was evidence of that.

###### 

_“I….I’m sorry, Killian,” she’d said softly in the dim light of their room once they returned to the safe haven of the castle walls. “For everything. For putting you and the men in danger - do you….do you think they’ll ever speak to me again?”_

_“Aye, they will,” he nodded, kicking his boots toward the fireplace. “Give it time, lass.”_

_“Okay,” she agreed as she pulled the blankets over herself. “Come to bed?”_

_“I’m afraid there’s still a matter we’ve got to attend to before sleep tonight, love.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Well, Swan, you put the clan at risk today,” he told her. “That’s something that any man of the group would be flogged for….maybe killed outright in some circumstances.”_

_“I know, Killian, and I’m-”_

_“I know, love. I know you’re still learning about all of this - our ways and how we do things - and that’s some excuse, but I did tell you to stay back. Now Gold will be on our trail, high and low, looking mostly for me….especially now that he’s got a good sense of where I might be.”_

_“I’m so sorry, Killian. I am.”_

_“I know - and if it were just me you’d hurt, we’d be done with this conversation,” he explained, tugging loosely on the leather strap around his waist. “But you put us all in jeopardy, Emma. So….best get on with it.”_

_“What are you talking about?”_

_“You’ve done considerable damage disobeying my orders, Emma,” he said in an overly serious tone that was laced in a bit of uncertainty. “I’m going to punish you for it.”_

_“Punish me?”_

_“Aye. Come on now - just….get down by the bed and lift your shirt, love.”_

_“I….I will do no such thing,” Emma replied after a moment, her arms crossed. “No, Killian.”_

_“Emma….”_

_“Killian, I said I’m sorry and I am,” she reminded him. “I’ve told you I won’t do such a thing again.”_

_“But you might,” he countered, his fingers tracing the texture of the belt. “That’s just the point. Swan, I know things are different where you come from. I know you do as you please without consequences of life or death, but here you can’t do that. The lightest action can have a drastic outcome. Such a thing is justice, love. Now get over here and we’ll get this over with.”_

_“What would ever make you think you’ve got the right to do something like that?”_

_“I’m your husband, Emma,” he said firmly. “It’s my duty to attend to it.”_

_“I will not let you beat me, Killian Jones.”_

_“Love, this is not-”_

_“Killian, stop it,” she snapped, rising from the bed and taking a blanket from the bedside chair to wrap around herself. “I said I was sorry. I am, but if you lay a hand on me, I can promise you that come morning you will no longer have a wife to discipline.”_

_“Emma, let’s talk about this-”_

_“No! You heard me - you will not touch me,” she cut him off, standing in the doorway with a fury. “I’m not going to stay here if that’s what you’ve decided to be the correct way.”_

_“Emma, you can’t leave,” he told her, standing to follow. “Where the bloody hell do you think you’ll go?”_

_“Away from you,” she retorted, the quilt tight around her. “Goodnight, soldier.”_

###### 

That night, she’d returned to the chamber after a long, calming walk around the grounds and gone to bed saying as little as possible to the man she’d just given her life to only days ago. He’d tossed and turned for a few hours as Emma pretended to sleep, hoping to avoid discussing the scene back on the hillside for a while longer.

It wasn’t something she could hide from forever though - and now, here he was to remind her of that.

“It was staggering to see, love, but Robin….he changed his position on the whole thing _publicly_ ,” Killian continued, leaning on the fireplace with his hand gripping the mantle. “He saw that peace was more important than tradition and he chose to make that call, even if it meant sacrificing a sliver or two of his own pride.”

“Oh,” Emma said after a moment, trying not to appear too interested. “I suppose that’s good. I don’t see how it pertains to you though, Killian - aside from being beneficial to the tranquility of the clan.”

“Well, I….I saw something in him, love,” he replied thoughtfully, his stare softening. “I saw a rigid man _bend_ , Emma. It made me mindful.”

“Of what?”

“Of...of us. Wives obey their husbands - and husbands discipline them when they don’t,” he explained with that observant caution. “That’s the way it was with my father and with his father and then on back and back….but maybe for you and me, it has to go a different way.”

Emma’s breath and understanding hinged on his words, her eyes analyzing him as he moved closer. She stared curiously at him as he lowered himself to a knee and reached to the leather holster on his belt, retrieving the iron handled blade that was kept there. He pulled it from its case and extended it toward her with the metal grip first.

“I’m giving you this, Emma - this promise….in hopes that it’s not too late for it,” he started, a stutter surrounding his words. “I swear to you on my lord Jesus and by this blade - the one my father gave to me - that I give you my fealty and pledge to you my honorable loyalty.”

It was a declaration unrivaled, not even by the honest and pure vows they’d shared in the candlelight of their wedding ceremony. While there was some form of love surrounding that event, the overall formality had been riddled with necessity and pride. This was _different_. This was Killian giving himself and his will to adapt to her. This was love of a determined, possibly ‘true’ sort.

“I would ask that if a time comes where I raise my hand _or_ voice to you again,” he continued, arching an eyebrow in suggestion. “That this blade might pierce my heart.”

Emma absorbed the honesty and apology in his light blue gaze. His hands were warm and trembling as he wrapped them around hers, securing her grip around the weapon. The tension of trust broke between them as she stayed frozen in position.

“Is it not enough, Emma? Do you….do you not want me anymore?”

 _Of course I do_ , she thought to herself as her heart hit the floor. She searched for the words in her exhausted mind, the ones that would assure him and confirm that this moment was enough. _He_ was enough. Emotion tugged on her lungs as she tried to figure out how to make him see that.

“Do you wish to live separately?”

A soft gasp left her lips, the shocked sound evident that she wanted nothing less. Their hands molded together and his palms grew cold as he waited for her response. He'd always been far too patient with her.

“I….I feel that’s what I should want,” Emma finally answered, studying their linked hands before raising her eyes back to find his. “But I don’t.”

It took him a moment to process her response, his eyes full of relief once his shoulders relaxed. They shifted to that cool blue, the same color that had comforted her the first night they’d spent alone in a room much like this one. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile as his thumb grazed the metal of the ring on her left hand.

“This was my brother’s.”

“The….ring?”

“Aye,” Killian answered, spinning the jewelry on her finger. “He kept it with him when he was sailing - it was my mother’s. He always said it would keep him safe until he could return home.”

Emma felt her heart pound painfully, her knowledge of how Killian’s older brother had been lost to the merciless waves of the ocean making the admission slightly sad. His hands still holding hers, his fingers moved back and forth over her knuckles. He pulled her fingers to his lips and placed a gentle kiss against them as the silence set the stage for his next confession.

“I didn't know that,” Emma replied softly, looking down at the metal on her finger. “Why didn’t you say so when you gave it to me?”

“I guess I was worried,” Killian admitted with a weak smile. “He was my constant, Emma. Liam was my home for so long and when he was gone, that ring was all I had left of my….home.”

Emma felt her soul swell for the man who’d lost everything when his country was attacked and he fled into the Scottish highlands. His face was pale as his eyes watered and their bright blue was like that of the sea, the one he’d promised to take her to see one day. Emma knew he would too - he’d never let her down. He’d promised her his intent not to more than once.

“That thought….doesn’t pain me like it once did, love,” he told her sweetly, his stare honest and committed. “ _You_ are my home now, Emma.”

She barely felt her eyes close as his breath brushed her cheek, the scratch of his beard slow and teasing against her jaw. Emma inhaled the scent of his long, dark head of hair and smiled when she caught a hint of lingering rum on his skin. She knew he’d probably spent a fair amount of time testing the bottle that day and she truly couldn’t blame him. She’d done the same - whiskey be damned.

“I….I _want_ you, Emma,” he breathed, his accent thick and slurred. “I want you so _much_ , love. Will….will you have me?”

“Yes,” she nodded, her hands tangled in his hair. “Yes, I’ll have you.”

His smile was brilliant and wanting as he cupped her face, pulling her forward to meet his lips. Emma melted into the kiss and the relationship that had turned her life around, shivering slightly as he slid her nightgown down one shoulder. His lips traced the indent of her collarbone as he swept her hair to the side and she gasped softly into the quiet air riddled with firelight. He groaned softly against her skin as he sucked light marks across her chest and Emma’s eyes closed hard as her fingers gripped his shirt.

“Emma, _love_ ,” he whispered, his breath labored and panting. “I want you - and _this_. I want us to be together, man and wife. Happy here or in the highlands or....wherever. I want all of it with _you_.”

“I want that too, Killian,” she told him, her fingers threading gently through his grown out hair. “I promise.”

He stood instantly, pulling her up with him as she rose to her toes. He make quick work of the linen hanging loosely on her body and it slid off her shoulders with a silent sound to her waist. Emma bit her lip as his fingers began a purposeful drag down her now bare torso, causing her to shudder slightly when he brushed the space between her thighs. He let out an almost feral sound, his desire mounting as he felt just how much she _did_ want this. He rubbed softly, the heel of his hand working gently against her as her hips set into slow motion.

 _God_ , he was perceptive. Emma didn’t know how he’d learned her so quickly, but as his rogue lips found her neck once more, she found her list of grievances with her husband fading fast.

Her hands found the clasp of his belt, the buckle weakening and hitting the floor with a loud thud as she shoved the kilt from his hips. The plaid fell to the wood planks under their feet as he lifted her, propping her up on the edge of the bed with her nightdress bunched at her waist. The kiss he resumed was one she was growing to know well, the kind that promised passion and more as his tongue danced over hers. With anxious fingers, Emma found the hooks of his vest and yanked mercilessly on them until the fabric slid back over his shoulders. She caught the fire in his dark stare when he pulled back to tug on the strings of his shirt, ultimately stretching it enough to rip over his head in his impatience.

“God, _Killian_ ,” she moaned, her head falling back as he ravaged her chest. “I want you…. _please_ ….”

He gasped at her plea, his teeth caressing a path between her breasts before he latched onto her nipple with a tug. Emma pulled on his messy scalp as he nibbled gently and left a wet trail with his tongue before taking them back into a heated battle of lips and hands. Her fingers cupped his jaw when he gripped her lower back, slowly falling back to the floor instead of the bed. He landed with silence, his body horizontal on the rug as she straddled on top of him. With fabric still resting on her waist, her body vibrated and he trembled as her wet center moved down his torso.

“Bloody _hell_ , love,” he pleaded, his hands tangling and pulling on her twisted nightgown. “Let me have you.”

Emma nodded fast, reaching down under the material to find him hard and beyond ready to take her. She stroked him once and allowed him to slide through her arousal several times before he pushed inside, their mutual moans music to her desperate ears. He pressed his palm flat on her stomach, sliding down to rub circles against her swollen center while she found the appropriate pace.

Riding him was something she hadn’t done _nearly_ enough of and Emma quickly decided if they were in the midst of changing traditions, adding this new one wouldn’t be a terrible plan.

“ _Yes_ , darling,” he growled, pushing harder as she raised and lowered herself on him. “That’s it, _love_. As much as you need.”

Emma’s mouth parted with a soft cry as he gripped her thighs, coaxing her speed with a soft squeeze. Her hands fell to his chest for balance and she moved faster, his slurred curses multiplying by the minute as she gave into the pleasurable pace.

“Emma, you….are a _vision_ -” he stammered, reaching for her wrist as he sat up. “-and you are _mine_.”

She moaned her agreement as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers pulling hard on his hair as his thrusts upward went deeper. Emma felt herself about to fall when he quickly dropped them back to the floor, this time with her back flush against the wood while he hovered above.

“ _Mine_ -” he growled, his hand encircling her breast. “-now and forever, Emma.”

“Yours,” she repeated, her tone needy and compliant. “ _Always_ yours.”

Her teeth found her lower lip when his palms pressed into the floor, bracing his body as he pushed firmly inside her. Emma’s legs lifted and wrapped hard around his waist as his effort doubled. His weight shifted to one arm and his free hand moved to her cheek, his eyes wide and full of life - the life he was offering her despite everything she’d done.

“I _love_ you, Emma,” he breathed, holding her jaw as he slammed in and pulled out of her with a deep drag. “So much, darling.”

“I….I love you too….god, _Killian_ ….”

Words dissolved between them as the fire crackled loudly and Killian shoved his hips forward once more, emptying himself with a groan as Emma collapsed around him. She fell over the edge with a near scream as he fought for breath, his forehead damp as he crumbled against her chest. His lips pressed against her neck as he rolled to the side and Emma ran her hand through his hair in a slow, automatic gesture. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually the scratch of his beard on her skin brought her back to reality.

“Emma, love….that was….”

“ _Mmmm_.”

“I’m not sure how you’re real, darling,” he mumbled, placing a kiss on her shoulder. “Or how you’re _mine_.”

“ _Yours_ , huh? You’ve got _quite_ the desire to own me, Jones,” she smiled, snuggled into his chest. “Perhaps my soul isn’t for sale.”

“Probably for the best,” he laughed as he pulled her hand to his chest. “It seems I cannot possess your soul without losing my own.”

“So maybe it is _you_ -” Emma replied, pressing her lips to the space over his heart. “-who belongs to _me_.”

“Ah, perhaps that’s more accurate,” he grinned as he pulled her close. “But I can still mean to make you call me master.”

“You can certainly try,” she giggled, peeking up at him. “I know you love a challenge.”

“Aye, that I do,” he hummed, his accent sleepy and sated. “I _definitely_ do.”


	8. So What's Your Story?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr for GFSS for lenfaz! A little FWB, detective Killian/newspaper editor Emma, brotherly Liam appearance, and CS shenanigans! Tated M for smut!

"Hey, what happened to your wrist?"

Emma barely had time to process the rather spontaneous question before her hand was pulled into the air for examination. She snatched it back regretfully fast before thinking up a realistic response. _Dammit_. An interrogation was the last thing she needed right now - especially since she had spent her fair share of time dealing with a certain detective lately. Yes, _plenty_ of time. Well, about four months to be exact.

"What? Huh? Oh - that," Emma deflected, pulling her sweater sleeve down over her hand as she turned back to the computer screen. "It's, _uh_ , it's nothing. I just….scraped it on something."

"Hmmm, on _something_ , huh?"

Emma tried to give Ruby, her quite nosy little gossip columnist, a stoic stare to support her weak answer. That girl was a hard one to lie to though and Emma soon began to anxiously scroll up and down on the computer screen, trying to busy herself with the proofreading that needed to be done rather than the real reason for the little scuff on her skin. She had the newest edition to approve before it went to print and she needed to review the articles on her desk - _not_ the memory of the man who'd very thoroughly reviewed _her_ the night before. Yes, the type of reviewing that could be done from one's knees with exploring hands and a determined intent.

 _That_ man and his methods were breaking all sorts of rules - and that same man, interestingly enough, just so happened to work for the law.

###### 

_"Oh, god - Killian…."_

_"I don't know that now is the time, hmmm," he mumbled against her flesh. "To get religious…."_

_"Jones….I'm, ugh, not….just - oh, just don't stop-"_

_"Not a chance, love," he growled, his fingers teasing at her entrance before pushing inside her. "Not a….chance. Bloody hell, Emma…."_

_He'd been kneeling on the hard floor of the sheriff's station for lord knows how long now, her legs draped over his shoulders as he gripped her thighs. He groaned each time she moaned his name, pulling back just enough for his stare to flicker upward before lowering his mouth back to the place she wanted him - no, needed him. He drew a long lick through the wetness there, his fingernails leaving subtle dents in her flesh when his pace quickened into something desperate. The moment he'd pulled her to his mouth in a frenzy, Emma had lost all concept of time - hell, she probably couldn't even spell 'time'. His tongue moved skillfully, working her toward that breathy climax he'd proven he could always help her find - even when she was positioned on the leather of his desk chair._

_It wasn't that she'd ever actually doubted him - she had never really been given the option. Fortunately, she didn't end up desiring to second guess much about this man. The first time his lips moved across her bare skin had put a stop to that possibility._

_They'd met four years ago during what was supposed to be a casual drink at the slightly shady bar near the end of main street. She couldn't meet him at Granny's - that was her place and what if he ended up on the list of people she needed to avoid? She wasn't about to run the risk of losing her favorite location in town, especially when she was only doing this at David's behest. She was still trying to figure out why it was so crucial for the editor of the town newspaper to be on friendly terms with the new second-in-command as far as local law enforcement was concerned when she entered the dim establishment. It hadn't taken her long to lay eyes on him. Newcomers tended to stick out like the sorest of thumbs and this guy was no exception….but for a reason somewhat varied from the norm._

_Dear lord, he was unbelievably hot. Her ability to focus all but drifted out the door the instant that accent fell from his lips. His name was Killian and aside from showing up to assist in protecting the town, he was surely there to ruin her. His eyes were a smoldering blue, a shade that flickered between dark and light in the most captivating manner. His smirk was experienced and his innuendos were blunt to the point of blushing. He had the most unruly dark hair, the kind she wanted to tug while allowing him to make good on some of those little taunts. It didn't take long for the rum to goad her into it - and perhaps that sinful sex appeal he possessed had played a part in it as well. Okay, of course it did._

_Their mutual stumbling landed them in the darkened alley, a concealed spot where Emma's back had burned against the cold bricks as he kissed her with hard intent. He'd managed to lift her in his less than sober state, tearing down the zipper on his well worn jeans as he pulled her panties aside before his length brushed hard and hot against her leg. Emma's hips rutted firmly into his until he thrusted up hard, entering her with a tortured moan she hadn't been expecting._

_Thanking some higher power that she'd opted for that little black dress for this meeting, she tightened the grip of her legs at his waist as his thrusts pushed her hard against the wall. A series of desperate curses and pleading words caused her to rise and fall against him. He grabbed her hips firmly after a minute or two, moving deeper and with a persistence that left her gasping and grinding. As pleasure pulsed inside of her, Emma felt a realization overtake her._

_Killian Jones was going to make her come like nobody else ever had - and holy hell, he did._

_He followed her almost immediately, their gasps and heavy breath hanging in the cool air as his hips flexed hard into hers. Emma fell into a sated state as he held her close and their bodies slid to the solid ground below. She winced a bit when his hands moved to smooth the scattered scrapes on her shoulder blades, her head dropping onto his shoulder as she settled in his lap and he propped his knees up behind her. The way she'd allowed her weight to fall against him was unexpected, but she felt comfortable - and that had been the beginning of this whole thing. Yes, the one that had never actually ended - not even when he took over the job of county detective. No, once that happened, he had his own office with a locking door._

_As they carried on, they grew a little bolder - testing a boundary here and bending a law there. She'd pushed him up against the bars of the holding cell a time or two, gripping the iron when he spun her and pressed her against the metal with his hips. She'd surprised him on patrol a few nights, an event that often ended with some parking in an undisclosed location and a little testing out the roominess of the new cruiser's backseat. He'd teased her multiple times about how quickly he could rile her up and warned her that his handcuffs had other purposes besides just containing criminals. Her daring defiance is what led them to the current scene - the one where he was worshipping her with his mouth while the metal cuff rubbed her wrist a little raw._

_But now as his mouth's relentless effort continued to make every muscle in her body shudder and her want grow, Emma couldn't and wouldn't allow herself to resent the fact that they kept doing this. It would have been unlawful to do so when they were just so, so good at it - but then again, having hot and unexpected sex in the late light of the sheriff's station probably wasn't all that legal either - especially when they hadn't actually locked that highly coveted door._

_"Swan…you have to…god, let me - yes, love. Just like that…"_

_His words were cut off as she rode his tongue, his teeth grazing her softly. Letting out a sound she didn't know she was capable of, Emma felt herself unravel as the handcuffs she'd forgot were around her wrist rattled against the metal of the chair. She allowed herself a soft smile as she remembered when he'd first locked them around her hand earlier, claiming she and her flirting warranted such an action. She hadn't fought him on it as her desire got the best of her - or perhaps it was simply him that had gotten the best of her. Yeah, that was probably it._

_Emma was still trying to catch her breath when she heard the jingle of keys and felt the restraint lift off her somewhat sore wrist. His hands were hot as he pulled her close, lifting her and swapping their positions with a satisfied smirk as he set her in his lap. The dangling cuffs clinked against the leg of the chair as he chuckled against her skin._

_"You don't always have to act so smug about it," Emma mumbled, her head tilting back as his teeth ran along her collarbone. "I could always….include that….in the article."_

_"Oh, I'm sure the readers of the Storybrooke Mirror would love to hear about how hard you-"_

_She cut off his explicit words with a searing kiss and her writhing hips, her hands threading through his dark hair as he groaned in approval. Emma began to roll her body into his as she rendered him speechless, that devious accent unable to taunt her through their locked lips. His hands grazed her lower back as he encouraged her motion, his own body rising up to meet hers. Emma's head dropped back as she continued to ride him, the dangling handcuffs hitting the metal arms of the chair as she moved._

_"If you do decide….to write about it-" Killian breathed, his voice stuttering as she smirked down at him. "-I'd appreciate you being...uh, thorough."_

_"Oh? So what's my story?"_

_"Well, facts are preferred, love," he grinned, chasing her lip with his teeth. "Plenty of adjectives. Accurate details. Twice."_

_"I thought you said honesty would….oh...be best," Emma gasped, her eyes full of ecstasy as she wrapped her hands around his neck. "Saying 'twice' wouldn't be the truth, detective."_

_"Well-" Killian shivered, his skin on fire as the cold metal of the handcuffs grazed his shoulder. "-not yet, love. But I have plans to make that statement very true."_

###### 

"Emma? Still with me?"

"Yep, yep, I'm here," Emma said quickly, blinking herself out of recall mode. "I'm fine. Just…okay, everything looks good, Rubes. Send it in."

Ruby bit her lip, crossing the office floor while peering over her shoulder at her very distracted boss. She snatched a post-it note from the front desk and started to scribble on it as August, the printing press warehouse guy, strolled in with a curiously raised eyebrow and his typical clipboard. He smiled at her, retrieving an ornament that had fallen from the nearby Christmas tree and handing it over to her. Ruby placed it back in position on one of the closest branches.

"Hey Ruby - everything….okay? Is the sign-off all good to go?"

"Yeah, it's fine, but check this-" she mentioned, sticking the note to the board he was holding. "-before you print. I'm _pretty_ sure the break-in at the Christmas tree lot didn't happen on the tenth of September, especially since it _definitely_ happened last week."

"Hmmm, that's…odd," August decided, glancing at the note then back up. "Definitely doesn't sound like Emma to make such an oversight."

"Yeah, definitely not," Ruby agreed, looking back toward her now work consumed boss. "But I think she got her notes from Detective Jones so maybe it's….not _her_ fault. I'll bet she was just a little distracted."

"Yeah, that would make more sense," August nodded, sidetracked by the stack of documents in his hands. "I guess we're all allowed a little error now and then. Probably just a one time thing."

"Yeah," Ruby sighed, tilting her head as she watched a flustered Emma knock over a container of pens with a distracted smile. "It probably is."

###### 

The late, unexpected creak of the writer's room door was the cause of her spilled coffee the next night. Scrambling with a napkin to clean up the spill, Emma flipped her hair back over her shoulders and glanced upward in time to see him lean casually in the doorway - not that she had to look to know exactly who would know where to find her at this hour.

"You know you could call before you decide to storm my office at eleven o'clock at night, Jones," she groaned, snatching the toppled cup from the ground. "The janitors already left for the day."

"Apologies, lass - but at least I bought a replacement?"

Emma finally allowed her sight to fully center on him and of course, that devilishly handsome smile didn't disappoint. In full disclosure, it never did, but she liked to keep _that_ bit of information to herself. He was shivering slightly, his face reddened with the cold weather outside and his messy hair dusted with melting snowflakes. His flannel was her favorite one - black and red and cozy enough to borrow which she definitely would later. His black peacoat shielded the fabric slightly and he'd popped the collar up to keep his ears warm. One day, she'd figure out how this man could look adorably carefree one moment and like pure smoldering sex the next.

That was contemplation for daytime though and right now, it was quite late - yes, that familiar sort of nighttime that warranted his company. She figured allowing herself to enjoy it wasn't a crime.

"Well, aren't you sweet?"

Emma pursed her lips flirtatiously as she took the steaming cup, allowing it to warm her hands before she fell back into her seat. They'd done this before - this whole late night 'keeping you company at work' thing. Emma had always worked best when the world grew quiet. How she'd become so okay with him cutting in on that productive time was another debate best left to daylight.

"I suppose you could say I share a few qualities with your drink of choice," he teased, tugging his coat off and tossing it onto the couch near the window. "Sweet, hot, comforting….the ability to keep you up all _night_."

She flipped a paper clip at him, trying to play off his rather true words and he bent down to plug in the twinkling tree lights she'd forgotten to illuminate earlier. He smiled wide when the multicolored bulbs began glowing and then allowed his reaction to evolve into one of those deep, enticingly wonderful laughs he seemed to save for her. Distraction took over for a second as she watched him roll up his sleeves, searching her drawers for a napkin to clean up the remainder of the spill she'd given up on. _Neat freak_ , she thought silently with a smirk. The scene was oddly domestic and comfortable in a way that forced her back to work - because no, she and Killian weren't supposed to be _either_ of those things.

She'd barely picked up her pencil when she felt his skilled fingers grip her shoulders, rubbing at the tension the work week had left there. He always did this and she rarely fought him on it. After all, she was only human - a sometimes stressed _and_ overworked one - and Killian Jones gave a _hell_ of a massage. The small moan that left her lips when he pressed a bit harder was unexpected though and he held back his chuckle rather obviously before dropping a gentle kiss to the side of her neck.

He was going to have to stop that.

"So what's this, love?"

Emma turned to look at him, setting her pen down next to the sketch she'd been crafting on the corner of her notes. Under less relaxing circumstances, he wouldn't have been able to get away with such an inquiry, but his kneading hands had worked her into a trance. Emma tried to cover the scribbled work up with her elbow, but he caught her with a knowing smile. _Dammit_.

"Just drawing for a second - taking a break."

He lifted the paper and slid it properly in front of her, resuming his position at her back. Instead of allowing his fingers to resume their glorious task, he reached forward to rest his hands on either side of the table's edge. Once he'd caged her cozily, she picked up her writing utensil again. Trying to ignore the warmth of his body pressed against her shoulder blades wasn't going to be easy and Emma fought her instinctive aroused impulse in order to keep shading her little artistic creation.

"Comics?"

"Oh, _uh_ \- no," she replied, feigning nonchalance before letting out a conceding sigh. "Well - _maybe_."

Tilting her head to look back at him was definitely a mistake. He'd taken on the most boyish grin, his eyes bright with intrigue as he looked down at the lines of her scattered sketches. She watched him process her work, his lips twitching up at the appropriate places as his presence behind her gave her that odd sense of security. He flipped through the pages, an amused laugh escaping him when he landed on the second one. She didn't know how his reaction made her feel so strangely confident - but it did. _He_ did.

"Emma, these are-" he offered, his eyes blue with honesty. "-really good."

"Oh," Emma blushed, tapping her pencil on the desk. "You think so?"

"Yeah I do - I _really_ do," he laughed, that million watt grin stretching across his lips. "This guy definitely appears to be up to something - and I'm assuming there's a story behind his attire. Quite the scoundrel, isn't he?"

 _You have no idea_ , Emma thought with a dramatic eye roll. Truthfully, she hadn't meant to create this little series of doodles. It happened on a different late night a few weeks earlier - a night when her thoughts had been wrapped up in Killian. The pencil had sort of moved on its own, scribbling the outline of a handsome, dark haired pirate. The little character had made her smirk in a very involuntary way, so much so that she barely realized she'd added a bit of extra blue to his lively eyes or a little police badge to his swashbuckling coat.

"So tell me, Swan," he began, suddenly serious while simultaneously flirty. "How _exactly_ is a man so skilled at swindling supposed to be competent at decoding crimes?"

"Well, I haven't gotten _that_ far yet," Emma laughed, sipping her coffee. "But I've got a few ideas."

"Hmmm, would you like to hear mine?"

Emma nodded, her eyes locking on his fingertips as he borrowed her pencil. His hand was hypnotizing as he created a carefully crafted outline of a person. Her teeth worried her lower lip as she figured out the path his art was headed down. He began to navigate longer lines, paying close attention to the strands of hair and the pair of lightly shaded eyes. Emma didn't have to look at him to see his grin evolve into something sweet. She felt it. She _always_ felt it.

"So your idea is to give him a sidekick?"

"Aye, though I think I'd prefer to call her a partner in crime," he teased. "Or a partner in solving them at least."

"Ah, I _see_ ," Emma taunted in return. "What makes you so sure she'd be cut out for the job?"

"Well, let's see…she's tenacious...and patient," he said, punctuating his explanation with kisses along her shoulder and up to her jaw. "Determined…brilliant...maybe even a _little_ bit of a temptress - I think the the two would make quite the team."

"I suppose they would - I mean, if you're into that sort of thing."

"Hmmm," Killian hummed, quickly spinning her chair toward him. "Are you into that sort of thing, Swan?"

"Maybe," Emma decided, reaching up to rest her hands against his denim clad legs. "I guess there's only one way to find out."

He gained that never failing look of fire, the one that made her heart pound out a heavy rhythm as his lips fell to hers. His hand lifted to guide her chin as the kiss deepened with an effort she'd grown to expect. It took only a minute for him to grip her thighs, moving her to the paper covered desk as her fingers reached to undo the button on his pants. They were pushed to the floor as his heated touch lifted her sweater off and rendered her naked on the wooden surface in record time. He had a way with that - the anxious and desperate manner that left her wanting more. Watching him watch her as she slid his flannel off his shoulders, Emma observed his appreciative stare with unfair desire. She knew she shouldn't match his expression. She shouldn't like the way it prompted huge winged butterflies to fly in her stomach, but it was difficult to miss just how much he wanted her. It was even harder to brush off how badly she _needed_ him.

"Emma, I know this breaks those rules we agreed on long ago," he admitted, pressing kisses to her collarbone. "But you are far too stunning _not_ to mention it."

"You don't have to do that charming thing with me, Killian," she breathed, rolling her neck back to an easier angle. "But you do need to kiss me. _Now_. Please."

"Hmmm," he said softly, hesitating before shaking his head at whatever he'd been about to say and opting for something clearly safer. "As you wish, love."

His hand was gentle yet direct as he tilted her lips further into his, his fingers supporting her chin as she sighed into him. The kiss was everything she shouldn't want and the desire that drove it was enough to pull her from any form of composure. Emma barely noticed his hands hard against her back or the way he yanked her into his arms, lifting her skillfully as he carried her to the couch she'd coaxed David into purchasing a few months earlier. Taking a moment to thank some higher financial governmental power, Emma grinned against his bruised lips as a heady pleasure took over. He noticed though - he _always_ did - and he pulled back enough for her to fall right into his dark blue gaze.

"You and that _look-_ " he told her, his voice hitching hard as he bit his lip. "-invoke _far_ too many ideas."

" _Oh_ ," she moaned in return. "What sort of ideas?"

"Ones that probably aren't suitable for the workplace," he replied quietly. "Ones that make me want to take you home….and _ravish_ you for hours….and perhaps remove this stubborn ink from your skin."

It was only then that her attention shifted to his fingertips and the vague gray color of newspaper ink imprinted on his touch. If she had any semblance of focus about her, she might have put a stop to those darkened caresses - but she had nothing short of a wrecked mind and an insatiable need. Inky or not, she _had_ to have him. His oversized and far too comfortable bed would have to wait until round two - because yes, there would be one tonight. Probably even _more_ than a second time to be truthful.

"Killian, _don't_ ….make me _wait_ ," she breathed, shuddering under his trailing hands. " _Please_."

"Wouldn't _dream_ of it, darling, but….you….are going to be quite, _oh_ , filthy if you allow me….to keep going."

"Then I'll have to let you….help me clean _up_ ," she gasped, vibrating under the press of his hips. "But first-"

"I know," he nodded, his tone full of desire. "Let me take care of you, love."

He shoved into her with a loud groan, letting her writhe under him as he propped himself up on a knee. Feeling the arm of the couch stiff at her back, she arched into him with her hands tugging gently on his scalp. He kept her close as his hips met hers, grinding into one another in that well practiced way. God, he was so _good_ \- and he only seemed to get better as this thing between them carried on. Emma wasn't sure what it meant, but there was no way in _hell_ that his cautious embrace and knowing yet oh so hot smile meant that he cared for her.

Emma tried not to acknowledge the way their bodies seemed to know one another so well as the pace picked up. She tried to ignore the way he whispered her name, his breath stuttering and hot against her neck. She tried to hold back the moans of pleasure that fell from her lips as he worked over every single inch of her body, pulling her to his chest as they fell over the edge together. She tried desperately not to drown in that brilliant blue pair of sated eyes or that adoring grin he gave her when he finally pulled her into his lap.

"Well, Swan," he started, showing her his inked fingertips before tracing nonsense on her back. "You definitely appear as if you ran into a mishap or two while working late at the printing office."

"I think I did - one named 'Killian Jones' if I recall correctly."

" _Me_? A mishap, huh? I'd say the only thing that makes me a nuisance-" he smirked, offering her a sweet kiss. "-is my affinity for the Storybrooke Mirror."

"Hmmm," Emma laughed, nipping at his lip. "Here I thought you were going to say something about me being 'as readable as the daily news'."

"Nah, I think I'd call you an open book if anything, love."

"Shut _up_ -" Emma smiled, leaning her forehead against his. "-and take me home."

" _Mmmm_ ," Killian sighed, his dark hair a total mess. "Gladly, Swan."

It wasn't until later that night as he slumbered quietly with his breathing even and his hand resting at her waist that Emma gave herself permission to watch him. She'd rolled to face him, taking note of those features she'd grown so fond of - the chiseled line of his jaw, the dark length of his eyelashes, the smooth appearance of his lips. Street light seeping in through the curtains framed his face and his thick, unruly hair was still wet with the memory of their steamy and passionate shower. The sheets tangled around his torso as he half consciously pulled her closer, prompting her to leave a kiss on his bare chest as she basked in the comfortable feel of his body warmth. Emma listened to his steady heartbeat as she allowed herself a thought that didn't prod her often, but when it did, it was a feat to successfully shake it.

It was the one that forced her to consider him - to _define_ him. It was the one that told her that Killian Jones and that undeniably _loving_ gaze could totally fall for her if she'd let him. Perhaps it was an admission or perhaps it was exhaustion, but as Emma dozed off in the fluffy blankets and his protective embrace, she told herself silently that one day she just might have to let him - and _maybe_ she'd even be brave enough to take that tumble with him.

###### 

"What's your problem, little brother?"

Killian snapped his attention to the curiously raised eyebrow of his older and oddly protective brother, the direct focus he had on the current edition of the paper dissolving as he felt the early signs of an interrogation building between them. He shoved the publication aside as he tried to ignore what he'd read and focus on how to dodge the upcoming questions. It was annoying at best - _he_ was the detective after all and his brother's sudden interest in pursuing the job for a clear purpose would lead to anything _but_ a solved case.

Liam met him most mornings, coffee and amused laughter warming their regular table at the local diner before they both headed into work. He'd retired from the Navy a few years back and had since made his home about half a mile from the docks, the same place where he'd found new work as a fishing boat captain. In this moment, however, his brother was fishing for answers instead of seafood - and Killian knew taking the bait was _not_ his safest route.

"I believe the proper sentiment here would be _'younger_ brother'...and I'm fine."

"Hmmm," Liam contemplated, narrowing his stare over his mug. "Okay then - what problem are you pretending _not_ to have?"

Killian bit his tongue as he tried to ignore the intrusive inquiry. In all fairness, Liam _meant_ well - he always did. He'd taken care of Killian for years when they were younger and that sense of duty had just never faded away. Seeing through the facade of emotional nonchalance his charming younger sibling often put up was one of Liam's well practiced skills. Swallowing back an inevitable sigh, Killian's mind turned circles as he attempted to find an alternate path to avoidance - because yes, pretending not to care about that night was his _only_ option.

###### 

_He hadn't seen her since she'd left the morning before, smudging ink from the freshly delivered newspaper on his cheek and kissing him sweetly before swiping his flannel shirt from the floor. He'd tried to contain his amused happiness as she pulled it over her shoulders and followed it with her coat. There was something about knowing she'd be using the fabric she'd ripped from his body the night before to keep herself warm in the winter weather. Well, to be honest, there was something about Emma Swan - and it was something he knew he wasn't supposed to be feeling._

_He'd been excited to see her, a blatant fact that broke a few of the stipulations they'd agreed upon when this all began. No sleeping over. No cuddling. No feelings. No relationship sort of anything. Despite those agreements, he had spent the morning after she left missing the warmth he'd felt when she'd been snuggled up against him in his bed. He could only think of one other time that they'd dozed off together and that had been chalked up to far too many glasses of rum followed by several sloppy yet skilled rounds in the sheets. They didn't talk about it or acknowledge if it meant something. They didn't think twice about it._

_But god, Killian wanted to - mostly because he had been thinking about her much more than twice for months now._

_Walking into the bar just after filing his last report of the day was done in a state of wondering if he should tell her. He kicked the snow off his shoes, the weather outside confirming that they would have a white Christmas after all. He shivered slightly, remembering that he'd only agreed to attending this little happy hour for two reasons - Emma would be there and David had asked him to come meet the new part time guy they were bringing on for weekend patrol. Killian peered around the dim room for them with anxious eyes. He hoped she'd be there already - and as he looked toward the booth near the pool table, he noticed she was._

_The only problem with that was the fact that she was laughing. She was smiling. She was happy - and it wasn't because of him._

_Killian felt his blood boil as he watched her. She was talking to the man they'd recently employed as David hung close at his side. Amusement danced in those green eyes and lingered in her dimpled grin. A joke was cracked and he heard that joyous sound all the way across the bar - that laugh that had made his heart flip flop and his knees melt so many times before. Something an awful lot like jealousy swelled in his shoulders as she leaned forward, resting her hand on the man's arm._

_What in the hell was she doing?_

_Kilian's hands became fists as he squeezed hard as his side. He wasn't about to stick around for this - observing the flirting she usually directed toward him be thrown at another man. He adjusted his stance, willing his feet to turn back toward the exit when she glanced up at him. Her gaze was a strange mix of reactions - excited that switched to startled before shifting into excited. It was only once she noticed the fire in his glare that her expression grew apologetic. Screw this, he thought as he spun back toward the door._

_"Killian! Killian, wait - stop."_

_His feet barely hit the icy, salted concrete when he heard her voice. He felt his hands tremble and he shoved them in his pockets, allowing anger to fill his bones as he stormed toward the alley. He didn't want to think about the way he wanted more from her. He didn't want to think about the way she didn't want more from him._

_"Killian," she`snapped, gasping in the cold air and she grabbed his arm. "What are you doing? Why are you-"_

_"Just decided that I don't feel much like drinking," he replied, a bit more bite to his words than he planned on. "I trust I don't need to clear that with you."_

_"What's your problem?"_

_He jerked around to face her, noticing that she'd forgotten her coat inside and her cheeks were red with cold. She looked freezing and confused, a pair of observations that would have caused him to fold if he didn't feel so foolish. What was he thinking - that he could grab a beer and surrender his heart to her? That she'd accept that? That she'd want that? Embarrassment threatened him and he stepped back to avoid it._

_"I don't have a problem, Swan," he told her with an expression matching the temperature. "Fortunately for you, neither does Storybrooke right now so don't worry - you don't need to interview me for anything."_

_"Killian, what are you talking about?"_

_"You don't need to be out here, Emma," he snapped. "It's cold and you don't have your coat and you were quite content doing….whatever it is that you were doing."_

_"Wait," Emma replied, shaking her head. "This is about Graham? I was just talking to him - just being nice. Why do you even care?"_

_He looked back at her, gritting his teeth to keep an admission from slipping out. She stared at him with a seriousness he hadn't seen before. He watched her eyes water as she awaited his answer. The words were there, right on the tip of his tongue and he swallowed them back. They didn't matter - not to Emma and not right now._

_"I guess I shouldn't care," he said softly, a smile weak at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry, Emma. I need to go."_

_He paused a moment before he turned away, trying not to be hopeful that she might stop him. Her mouth opened for a moment, but she wasn't able to find her way to speech._

_"Okay," she sighed, her tone soft and concluding. "Have a nice night, Detective Jones."_

_He cringed a bit as he stood solitary, allowing her to go first. She wandered back along the sidewalk with her arms wrapped around her waist and she passed the door back inside, disappearing into the dark of the parking lot. Killian ran an exasperated hand through his hair as he started back up the street. Her sad departure meant something - she never called him 'Detective Jones' unless they were naked and wanting or those rare instances when he'd hurt her feelings. Obviously, it wasn't the first one._

###### 

" _Ah_ , I see what the story is here," Liam grinned as he picked up the discarded newspaper. "Reading Emma's article about the scuffle at the diner a couple nights ago, huh?"

Killian peeked out the window, not replying as he tried to shake off the replay of their little spat outside the bar a few nights before. He hadn't seen her since then, just a little correspondence via email where she thanked him _far_ too professionally for faxing over the police report so she had the necessary facts. It hadn't been a big deal - just Leroy's monthly arrest for creating a bit of a public brawl - but any _news_ quickly became big news in a small town. Emma was always good at capturing those somewhat insignificant events and finding a way to turn them into entertaining stories. Then again, she'd always been good at catching _his_ attention.

"So what are you so worked up about? Arrest made at 9:46 that night," Liam recounted, pointing to the text. "It's right here, Killian - your proper credit for a job well done."

"It was 9:32," he mumbled in return, taking a sip from his mug. "The arrest was made at 9:32."

"Big deal. She missed it by a few minutes."

Killian knew Liam was right. This whole thing definitely _shouldn't_ be that big of a deal, but this was Emma - and _that_ woman didn't make mistakes when it came to the little details. It was messy journalism and he couldn't bring himself to accept that she'd been careless on _any_ story let alone one that _he_ was a part of.

"Killian," Liam said suddenly, cutting into his thoughts. "About Emma...I know you like her, but-"

"Whoa, whoa - _why_ would you think such a thing?"

" _Really_? How much time do you have, little brother? We'd be here all day if you wanted me to go through that rather lengthy list of reasons."

"Liam, it's not like that-"

"It most certainly _is_ like that, Killian," Liam interrupted, swiping the paper and spinning it to face his brother. "You have pined after that girl since you moved here. You make it a priority to pick up the newspaper first thing in the morning. You smile like a complete fool the entire time you read _and_ reread it. You sneak into her office every night that she works late with coffee that I can only _assume_ you are bringing for her-"

"Wait," Killian stopped him, blushing furiously. "How did….you, _uh…_.you know about that then?"

"You've gotta know that the docks aren't far from where you think you're sneakily parking your truck," Liam teased. "You like her - and that's a _good_ thing, brother."

"Maybe it's not."

"Well, _I_ say it is," he replied, tapping the sides of his own mug. "Have you told her?"

Killian shook his head, staring down at the dwindling brew in his cup. He hadn't talked to her about anything since she walked away from the alley during his little outburst. She probably wouldn't want to hear from him. He couldn't say he blamed her for that.

"I'll take that as a no," Liam groaned, sighing as he tossed a few dollars onto the table and stood to pull on his coat. "Well, I don't want to overstep my bounds, Killian - but if you aren't going to then perhaps I'll mention it when I see her."

"Don't even _think_ about it-"

"Then tell her," he scolded, raising his eyebrows. "So _I_ don't have to."

"You'd _really_ do that? Not very brotherly of you, Liam. I thought we were past that whole thing where you constantly worry about my happiness."

"You know I'll always worry about you, Killian - especially when you act like a total arse," he told him. "So tell her you like her so I can stop bugging you about it."

"Then what? You think a chat like that will point me in a direction of a happy ending?"

"Or to some _mistletoe_ ," Liam grinned, winking as he headed for the door. "After all, brother, 'tis the season to be honest."

"That's not a saying, Liam."

"It is _now_ , little brother."

###### 

Emma was beyond grateful that the majority of Storybrooke's law enforcement was busy as she stepped on the gas and her little car zoomed up the street. She knew David would understand - he was the one who called her after all. Of course, he'd told her it wasn't a big deal and encouraged her to stay in until the following day. It was Christmas Eve and there was a hell of a storm set to hit town at _any_ hour now. She didn't need to be out driving or speeding in such circumstances, but here she was - bundled up and headed to Storybrooke General Hospital in a race with some imaginary clock.

She'd barely settled into her sofa cushions with her steaming mug of hot chocolate when her cell started ringing. Jumping slightly at the sound, her eyes had scanned the screen in hopes of seeing the name and goofy picture she'd been missing for days now. She tried to push away the memory of the night she'd taken it - the night he'd shown up to help her decorate the tree at the sheriff's station and teased her with the ornaments, spouting some nonsense about an 'awareness campaign'.

###### 

_"Swan, I almost forgot to tell you! David's making us do this charity thing to raise funds for testicular cancer."_

_"Hanging ornaments on a Christmas tree reminded you that you hadn't mentioned that to me yet?"_

_"Well, I suppose," he'd laughed, hanging two of them low on the waist of his gray jeans. "But how could I not be reminded?"_

_"Killian…."_

_"Rather large problem, don't you think?"_

_"Definitely," she'd taunted it return, tossing some tinsel at him. "You should really get those checked out."_

_"I don't recall you ever complaining before, love."_

_"Make yourself useful and go check those Christmas lights before I decide to check YOU for testicular cancer, Jones."_

_"Hmmm, is that an offer?"_

_"Could be," she smirked, grabbing her phone and snapping a picture. "But if we don't get this tree finished, you won't be finding out and I can promise you will be on the front page of the paper with this photograph."_

_"I suppose I'll have to save my charitable cause for later," he grinned. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd at least warm up your hands, love."_

###### 

She'd been surprised when the letters of David's name popped up instead and that emotion shifted quickly to shock upon hearing the reason for the call. With her oversized boots, no coat, and little to _no_ sense, Emma had made a beeline for her snow covered car. The tires squealed a bit on the recently plowed road as she tried to remember what she'd heard on the phone.

There'd been an accident earlier that evening. David, Graham, and Killian had been chasing down the thief they'd been tracking for weeks. Killian was in the hospital. Killian was _hurt_.

There was no _way_ she'd wait until morning to find out how badly. She wanted to see him - or rather she _needed_ to. The way they'd left things had kept her up for hours each night and while she hadn't been courageous enough to take the first step in resolving their silence, she _missed_ him. Now, to top it all off, she was _worried_ about him. Waiting just wasn't an option.

She bolted toward the emergency room doors the moment she shut off the ignition, running as fast as the slippery parking lot would safely allow. The bright hallway was alight with noise and busy nurses. There was no way she'd be able to find him in this mess of eggnog overdoses and snow shoveling accident victims.

"Emma?"

The voice came from a room to her left and though it sounded remarkably like Killian's, she soon realized it wasn't. She smiled at the man anyway - recognizing the detective's next of kin had never been difficult.

" _Liam_ ," she said softly, stepping back as his older brother moved into the hallway. "H-how is….is everything….I j-j-just…."

"Catch your breath, lass," he laughed, snagging a blanket from a cart. "Put this on those shoulders. Where in the bloody hell is your coat, Swan?"

"I g-guess I...f-f-forgot it," Emma admitted, her teeth chattering a bit. "I w-was in a h-h-hurry."

"To check on my little brother?"

She paused for a moment, biting on her lower lip as she shivered. Liam gave her that knowing look, one he seemed to delight in using as he crossed his arms over his chest. She nodded after a moment, something that caused him to perk up. Did he _like_ the idea of her caring for Killian? Was he in support of this? There was something remarkably entertaining about Liam perhaps being on Team Emma - assuming that there _were_ teams and assuming that 'this' was something to be in support of.

"He's okay," Liam divulged, leaning against the door frame. "Bruised a rib or two. Bumped his head pretty good and a few scrapes and cuts."

"Is he….in pain?"

"Well, perhaps not from _that_ …."

 _So he knows_ , Emma thought to herself as she pulled the blanket tighter around her cold arms. She wondered just _how_ much he knew - and just how upset Killian really was about this whole thing. Maybe she could find out.

"Emma, it's not really a secret that Killian cares for you," Liam started, a half smile reassuring her. "I think he always has. So as a guy who doesn't want to see his little brother get beaten up any more today, if I tell you to go in and talk to him, would I be making a wise decision?"

Emma had spent days pondering just exactly what the right choice might be. She'd spent countless hours thinking back over the looks she'd earned from the blue eyed detective she'd never wanted to fall for - the sweet ones he'd offer her when showing up after hours at the office, the attentive ones he gave her when she asked him for details on the legal happenings in town, and even the heated ones he took on in between desperate kisses. She'd spent enough time between leaving him in the alley and the reckless drive to the hospital to recognize the truth.

She _loved_ him. She'd loved him for longer than she could probably ever realize.

"Yes."

"Well, okay then," Liam nodded, smiling as he gestured toward the door. "Go ahead, Swan - but tell him to go easy on the jello. That stuff can't be good for you."

She rolled her eyes a bit as she grinned at him and his protective spirit. Killian was fortunate to have Liam - she hoped he knew that. Her feet moved slowly as she tried to coax her hope in a different direction. Rounding the corner, she froze as she took in the sight of an adorably injured man. He was resting under the blankets, laying back against propped up pillows as he stared out at the falling snow. His forehead was bandaged heavily and his eye was vaguely blackening. He shifted on the bed, wincing in some sort of pain as he moved. The room was quiet save for the low volume of the television and Emma heard the vague dialogue of _Love Actually_ , a movie she'd once forced him to watch post sofa seduction about a month earlier. Her heart found a place in her throat as she waited for him to acknowledge her.

She was about to announce herself when she noticed a cord hanging from the bottom of the small Christmas tree just to her side. A smirk fell on her lips as she reminisced the way he'd looked with the glow of the lights on his skin. Bending down carefully, she plugged the strand in and the dim room brightened with multiple colors.

"Liam, you don't need to-"

His statement cut itself short when he turned toward the doorway and his eyes found hers. His breath appeared to hitch in his chest and his mouth hung open in disbelief. She hoped that was a good sign as she waited for him to say something - well, _anything_.

"Hi."

She couldn't help the way her pulse quickened or the trace of a smile that spread across her lips at his slim greeting. He didn't seem to know what words to use. _That's a first_ , she thought silently.

"Hi," Emma replied in all but a whisper. "How are you feeling?"

"Not as Christmas spirit-y as I'd like," he offered politely. "But I'll live. What are you doing here, Emma?"

God, she _loved_ the way her name sounded when his accent wrapped around it so sweetly. It was enough to tempt her closer. He studied her as she walked, trying to read her motive with that deciphering stare. _Once a detective, always a detective_ , Emma mused.

"I wanted to make sure you're okay," she answered, swallowing hard before continuing. "Plus, I...well, I wanted to see you."

"You did? For a….specific reason I'm guessing?"

She nodded, reaching the side of the bed and smoothing the sheets near his head as she ran a thumb over his cheek. He smirked at her touch and leaned into her hand slightly. _There_ it was - that appreciative and enraptured love he _definitely_ had for her. How had she not seen it before?

"I wanted to tell you something."

"Okay," he said softly, straightening up against the cushions at his back. "I'm listening."

There were so many places she could begin. There were so many things she wanted to say. There were so many admissions he deserved to hear - but there was only one thing she really _needed_ him to hear.

"I love you."

His eyes went wide with blue bewilderment. Emma pursed her lips as she rocked back and forth on her heels, waiting for his complimenting words or for her world to fall apart. It wasn't until his lips curved upward that she realized where his reply might be headed.

"So, you drove down here on Christmas Eve in this apparent blizzard-" he deduced, pointing to the window. " _-without_ your coat at ten o'clock at night….to tell me that?"

"Ummm, yeah," she confirmed after a moment, returning his grin. "But when you put it _that_ way-"

"Swan..."

She held her tongue as he beckoned her forward, sliding over and patting the small space he'd created on the blankets for her. Emma hopped up onto the small bed as carefully as she could, lamenting the fact that they weren't snuggled close together in the one at his house instead. She rolled to face him, much like she had the last time they'd been in this position. He stared down at her with some sort of intent - she just wasn't sure which kind.

"Killian, what are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable - and warming you up," he explained, pulling her into his arms. "So I can tell you I love you."

Emma was sure she'd have to pick up her heart _and_ her composure from the cold tile floor below when she finally sat up - not that she had _any_ intention of doing that anytime soon. She wiggled in his embrace, tilting her head up to look at him. Despite his scattered injuries and the split lip she was just now noticing, he looked happy in a way she'd yet to witness. Taking a chance on making the wintery drive to see him was _definitely_ worth that.

"So you mean to tell me that _you_ were careless, got hurt on the job, _and_ decided to spend Christmas Eve in the hospital all so I'd drive down here and admit that I love you?"

"Not _exactly_ , love - though having you here is a _very_ welcome bonus," he laughed, cringing at the way his chuckle vibrated against his ribs. "The injury is a tale for another time, but let's just say that following bandits across black ice while daydreaming of a certain beautiful blonde _isn't_ something I'd recommend."

"Oh, come _on_ ," Emma smirked, batting her eyelashes. "You _have_ to tell me."

"I don't know that my ego could tolerate any more berating, Swan," he teased. "But if you'd like to stay, I'll let you pick a movie?"

"Ugh, fair enough," she conceded, turning up the volume on the film still reeling on the screen. "Looks like it's a chick flick for you, Jones…. _unless_ you'd like to tell me why you're laid up in the hospital instead?"

"Is this how it's _always_ going to be? You trying to interrogate me with those tempting eyes?"

"I prefer 'interview'," she retorted, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "So come _on_ , Killian - what's your story?"

"Still being written, love," he said after a moment, placing a kiss against her hair. "Still have a few facts to gather before the whole tale can be printed up and mass produced but I can assure you, it's going to be a good one."

"Hmmm," she replied, closing her eyes as she listened. "Like front page worthy stuff?"

"Absolutely," he nodded as his hand ran through her hair. "Perfect for the headlines."

"Which will say?"

"Probably something about a Christmas miracle…."

" _Ugh_ ," she groaned, trying to shield her grin. "You're insufferable."

"Well, it's that or something about _suggestive_ tree ornaments…."

"Shut _up_ ," she giggled, cuddling closer to him. "I'm going to kill you if I have to hear _any_ other breaking news ideas."

"Well, if you're planning on getting violent, then we'd probably go for something with 'slay' or perhaps 'sleigh' in the title….you know, in support of the holidays. I suppose I'll also need to swing by the station for some shackles if you want to go _that_ route."

" _Killian…_."

"I know, I _know_ ," he finally said, giving up as he tightened his hold on her. "But you can't blame a man for taking an interest in your work."

"I blame you for _many_ things," she decided with a nuzzle. "But I'll let you make them up to me when I take you home tomorrow."

"Sounds like a _very_ Merry Christmas to me, Swan."

She hummed her approval as she relaxed against him, elated to finally be back in that cozy space next to him. As her eyelids flickered closed with a final glimpse of the tiny yet well lit tree and his whispered affection in her ear, Emma knew that despite the mess they'd endured to get here, this holiday would be nothing short of happy.


	9. Well, You Started It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very belated birthday gift (and place holder for an Unfinished Business one shot that I'm still working on) for @xpumpkindumplingx because of our mutual love for both New Girl and OUAT. Just some good old UST/smut! M rated for sure! Enjoy, my dear cupcake! XOXO

It was nearly one thirty in the morning by the time he locked up the bar, his feet padding tiredly across the parking lot as he tried to fend off the lyrics to that 90's song about closing time that were on a loop in his exhausted brain. He caught himself humming it once or twice as he weaved through the maze of Los Angeles streets and though he'd normally want to slap himself for encouraging his mind's recognition of that catchy tune, it was truly one of the only things keeping him awake. He'd slept horrible the night before and as he pulled into the concealed parking space behind the loft, he remembered why.

Oh, bloody stupid _sodding_ hell.

Killian dropped his forehead against the cool metal of the elevator door once inside as the floor rose beneath his feet, a frustrated groan escaping him as he exhaled. He wasn't really sure where his mind was - honestly, he'd been a mess of emotions for a while now and it was still a little tricky to pin down just how he was feeling. The icy surface of the doors that would part once they reached level five seemed like a good place to rest his weary head while he tried to sort through whatever the hell was running through his brain.

It was useless really - he knew _exactly_ what was bothering him. It was the same thing that had him vexed when he'd left the apartment several hours earlier and it was the same thing that would certainly be there to exasperate him when he returned.

The problem was Emma Swan - his roommate David's little sister and their unexpected houseguest for the next month or two. Well, just until 'she gets back on her feet' is what he'd been told when she yanked her oversized suitcase through the door more than just a few weeks earlier. He just wished someone had told him he'd have his sanity ripped _right_ out from under him by the time she unpacked.

For the record, it had been almost _three_ months ago since she'd stumbled through the door in those black tights and ballet flats - and she'd been dragging him through a hundred types of insanity since that fateful day.

It had started off fine with the exception of Killian having to get used to the million different completely random things girls do when they feel at home. He was suddenly missing every plastic hanger he'd ever purchased - and they were _already_ far and few between. He'd wake up to the sound of the blaring smoothie maker, the disruptive grinding telling him she'd be leaving for work shortly when he'd finally just turned in after a long night of tending bar. The bathroom door was suddenly almost always locked and the hot water in the shower was basically nonexistent and only about five or six or _ten_ different hair care products lined up on the bathroom sink to add to that. She'd even taken up weekend residency on the sofa in the place he always sat, commandeering the remote and what was left of his patience far too fast.

It was the way everything kept piling up - the books she brought home from her afternoon coffee shop trips and the literal one _billion_ hair ties, pins, and headbands she'd left on _every_ flat surface in the loft - that kept pushing Killian to the edge of his dwindling hospitality. It was this quickly growing collection of bloody facts that inched him closer and closer to snapping with each passing moment. Of course, that was assuming that her uncanny ability to bicker with him didn't push too far first.

###### 

" _Emma, you have to be more careful! I mean, you aren't from here and I can assure you that those bloody fools who nearly walked off with your purchases aren't the worst of it!"_

_It was stupid that he'd gone to the drugstore with her at all really. She was an adult. She had a car - not a very efficient one, but it could get her from the loft to the point B that was only about five minutes away. There was just something about her as she slipped on that red leather jacket and those ridiculous ballet flats along with her overly innocent smile that screamed she needed company._

_For some reason, he'd cared enough about it to leave his beer half full and abandoned on the kitchen counter while he took on that almost annoying task._

" _Killian, I'm fine! I've been to shadier places than that in even worse cities than this one and I've taken….well, kind of taken more than one self defense class," she explained, swinging the bag she nearly lost back and forth. "You don't need to worry about me."_

" _How exactly do you 'kind of' take a self defense class?"_

" _Hey - don't change the subject," she retorted, pointing her finger at him. "I'm not running errands with you anymore if you can't quit bossing me around. Not everyone is out to get you or me, Killian."_

" _Well you'll have to forgive me if I'm trying to impart a little urban wisdom on you, Swan," he sighed, jingling his keys distractedly. "You shouldn't leave your things unattended if you'd like to keep them safe."_

_Killian bit his lip gently, trying to shield his embarrassment at the unintentional implication of that advice. He didn't go shopping with her to protect her - and she sure as hell didn't belong to him. He watched her beautiful green eyes roll dramatically as her wild waves of blonde hair blew subtly in the afternoon breeze._

_Yeah, as if that woman could ever be owned by anyone._

" _God, I get it, okay? I'll pay more attention next time," she snapped, pausing at the elevator door as they entered the lobby. "But, wait….Killian…."_

" _Ugh, what?"_

" _Well, why do you care?"_

" _Huh?"_

" _I just have to ask why you suddenly care what I do or how I do it," she told him, tilting her head sideways. "The Killian Jones I know doesn't care about anything but himself."_

_He gave her a look he clearly hadn't often before, one that almost challenged her as she bit her lip. Killian's head spun with the possibility of the moment - what the in the name of Hades was this? Was she warning him? Was she maybe even daring him? As uncertainty pulsed through his veins, he realized with complete defiance that there was no way in the seventh circle of hell he could let her win this….well, whatever it was._

" _Well, the way you keep me constantly on high alert certainly reminds me that I could-" he replied, his tone as level as he could attempt with his heart thumping so hard. "-or perhaps even that I should."_

" _Hmmm," she said softly, pulling the random items she'd bought from her bag on the counter. "That will be the day, Jones."_

" _It just might. Oh and Emma…."_

" _What, Killian?"_

" _Here," he snipped, setting a small spice shaker next to the other purchases and leaning in a bit closer. "You dropped your cinnamon."_

_The expression that spread over her rather startled features was almost priceless as he smiled arrogantly, prompting her to roll her eyes predictably - but not before she gave him an oddly longing stare. There was something more to that look and it was definitely something he was going to pick apart over the coming days._

" _Whatever, Jones," she groaned. "Just….shut up."_

###### 

He'd always hated how slow the lift was in their building. He reached back over to slam his thumb on the number five a few more times with a groan, trying not to remember the time she'd told him ' _you're either going to break your finger or you're gonna break that button'_ while scolding him about being so impatient. It was ironic honestly - especially because he felt like he'd been nothing _but_ patient with her. Well, at least when it _truly_ mattered.

Two weeks ago, after she'd come back from a spontaneous dinner with the ex who'd suddenly decided he wanted her back, it had _definitely_ mattered.

###### 

" _Killian, please just go away…."_

" _But it's almost done, Swan!"_

_His hand moved faster than it should while holding a knife, the blade cutting through the last part of the plan on the face of the pumpkin far too quickly. He knew it wasn't his best work, but he'd been proud of himself for actually being able to located a carvable pumpkin in the middle of February and he was going to cheer her up dammit. She'd always had a soft spot for his ability to dagger a detailed jack-o-lantern._

" _Killian, please," she whined, staring down into her wine glass. "I just wanted to listen to Adele alone!"_

" _That is not happening," he told her, raising his eyebrows as he set the knife down. "I thought I banned most of her songs from being played at the end of your first week staying here - you know, the last time that idiot broke your heart?"_

_He quickly spun the lopsided, terribly out of season pumpkin to face her as he offered a nervous smirk. She laughed almost instantly at the picture he'd created - a large, hollowed out heart that was held in place by the calligraphy style letters spelling out 'Neal Sucks' across the middle. It put a few butterflies in his stomach to know he could still make her smile at such a time and he quickly wiped his hands off before heading over to sit next to her - even though she was currently burrowed into his spot on the couch._

" _I'm right though," she sniffled, grabbing a tissue as she peered sideways at him. "I mean with not trusting Neal anymore, right?"_

" _Honestly, yeah," he shrugged. "I mean, from what I know about him anyway. I know you drive me crazy sometimes, but I really do think you deserve to be happy, Swan - and you deserve to be with a guy who's crazy about you."_

" _So….so I'm right not to believe him when he says he misses me and he wants to try again?"_

" _Well, I said you're right not to trust him, love….but-"_

" _But, what?"_

" _I can't call him a liar, even if his intentions might be….unworthy," Killian sighed, a half smile tugging at the corner of his cheek. "Because I think you're the kind of a girl a guy would come back for."_

_The look on her face was one that could light up his entire world in a second - and honestly, he had half a mind to let it. She used the tissue to remove a bit of the mascara running down her cheeks before she let her head drop against his shoulder. It felt almost automatic to turn and place a kiss against her hair when her hand fell to rest on his forearm, but he stopped the idea before he executed it. This wasn't about him right now._

" _Killian?"_

" _Hmmm?"_

" _Will you go grab our jackets?"_

" _Uhhh, sure," he replied, a curious nature to his response. "Are we going somewhere?"_

" _Yes," she laughed, raising her eyes back to him with a smirk. "We have a pumpkin to smash."_

###### 

The odd memory of them acting like _actual_ human beings to one another made his heart hurt just a little more. In those rare but extremely honest moments, it was almost like they'd become friends - _well_ , friends who genuinely kind of hated one another. Of course, she'd said way more than that recently at the bar. Killian mentally slapped himself. He _had_ to stop thinking about that.

He reached the beat up metal of the loft door after a long, plodding, stalling journey from the elevator with a sigh. Glancing down at his watch, he noted the late hour and sorted through his earlier drawn conclusions. David had taken off earlier to spend the night at his girlfriend's place downtown, the glimmer in his eyes full of that puppy dog love that would keep him busy until the next day. August had casually mentioned that he was going to 'venture out onto the open road', which typically meant he was going to take his rundown motorcycle for a long drive and end up lost or out of gas by morning. Killian shook his head with a huff, knowing that either scenario would only end with the whiny phone call from his long time friend. God, he could almost _swear_ that man's head was made of wood sometimes.

Then there was Emma, who he could only hope - yes, _desperately_ hope was asleep by now. His stomach turned over itself as he pondered the several other options he could take instead of sneaking through the front door. Mexico was a bit too far of a drive sadly and his car had zero comfortable sleeping positions so the list of alternate routes quickly burned up in his head.

He _had_ to face her at some point - even though he truly didn't want to after what had transpired only hours ago.

###### 

_Son of a bitch._

_That curse ridden sentence scrolled through Killian's brain the instant he looked up from wiping off part of the bartop. He felt his heart sink fast in his chest at the sight of her near the front entrance, her hair pinned to the side and cascading over her shoulders in golden waves. It didn't take a lot from her to make his world spin sideways on its axis - just that silly wave from several paces away and the curve of her mouth rising to produce those dimples. She was smiling in that genuine way that pulled at his stubborn heartstrings, even though he knew she wasn't feeling well after she'd woken up with that monster hangover. Yes, the same hangover that had resulted from her drunken flirting turned unexpected confession - and the same hangover that would hopefully serve as a buffer for just a while longer while he tried to sort through this mess his life had become._

_He couldn't worry about that now though - not with beer that needed to be poured, a keg that needed to be tapped, and a houseguest turned temptress that he really needed to avoid._

" _We better fill the ice bin soon, Jones. It's going to start getting hot in here."_

_The suggestive comment was followed by a grabby hand sliding into the back pocket of his jeans and Killian's fingers fumbled at the feel of a sudden squeeze, causing the shattering drop of a shot glass on the floor. He groaned with his head shaking in frustration - he'd been so busy obsessing over the beautiful blonde who was headed right toward her typical stool across the counter that he'd neglected to keep watch for the one who was certainly making a habit out of digging her claws into his skin. He blushed furiously, his breath hurried as he gave her a quick glance of warning. He wasn't really sure why he felt it was necessary. He'd spent several lonely Saturday nights and even a Sunday morning or two with the manager's twenty something daughter, Ruby, in his bed. He had no reason to be ashamed of a casual hook up that hit the repeat button once in awhile._

_So why did Emma Swan and her adorable smile make him feel like he did? Why did he have this weird displaced loyalty to a woman that made him angry in so many stupid, annoying, hilarious ways? Well, because he did - and even if it didn't make sense, he just didn't want to disappoint her. More than that, he didn't want to hurt her._

" _Hey," she grinned, sliding into her seat with a slight hop. "What do I have to do around here to get a drink?"_

" _Nice to see you, Swan," he said with a hurry, peeking back over his shoulder. "I, uh, I thought you weren't stopping by tonight. You didn't seem like you felt well earlier."_

" _Kind of an understatement," she laughed as she toyed with a stray strand of hair. "You should probably keep the whiskey bottles behind the bar for a while, Jones."_

" _Noted," he nodded, distracting himself with stacking napkins while keeping an eye out for Ruby. "Maybe you should stick with water tonight. I mean, you could even just go home if you wanted to? It's not that busy and I might even be out of here early tonight-"_

" _Yeah, maybe….but…."_

_Her voice trailed off as she gave him a weak smile, one that made his heart flutter. He knew what her expression meant - it was the same one she'd given him when he'd let her win the argument about cooking turkey Thanksgiving dinner instead of having takeout and the one she'd worn during their drive to six different stores in order to procure the last frozen bird in America the night before the bloody holiday._

_It was her tradition loving smile - and somehow, her visiting him every Saturday night at the bar for these past few months had become one of those traditions._

" _Hey you," Ruby said suddenly, her sultry voice accompanied by her hand stroking his hipbone. "Want to help me with that ice?"_

_All color drained from his face as he flinched, immediately moving away from the unwanted touch despite Ruby's sizzling determination. She quickly dipped forward to try and kiss him, an act that prompted Killian to stumble backward slightly while Emma looked on. He glanced sideways at her, realizing he'd apparently dropped his pride in the shattered glass on the floor right next to his ability to be a gentleman. Oh, dammit._

" _Whoa," Ruby grinned, sneaking a peek over at Emma before giving him a playful glare. "What's with you, Jones?"_

" _What? Nothing! I'm fine….I'm just….I-"_

_His words were quickly lost, his horribly inadequate explanation paused as he looked at the girl who'd been driving him back and forth on the insanity spectrum for weeks now. Her eyes were fiercely green, the same color they'd been when he first met her but now with a fleck of sadness he hadn't seen before. She pressed her lips together gently, tilting her head just barely in a sense of acknowledgement._

_He was so, so screwed._

" _Oh," Emma said softly, glancing back and forth between him and this girl she didn't know. "Is she-"_

" _No! No, Emma, it's….she's not…."_

_He caught sight of the shift in her expression almost instantly, her shoulders slumping as her eyes watered enough to change the shade of green coloring them to a much lighter hue. She bit her lip gently while tucking her hair behind her ear before looking back up at him with a totally disbelieving stare - one that seemed to ask what the hell he was trying to pull._

" _Emma, I'm….I'm sorry-"_

" _No, Killian - that's….you don't need to be sorry," she interrupted, slinging her purse back onto her shoulder. "I….I have to go."_

" _Swan, no - please wait!"_

_He watched her go at a pace far too fast for his liking, not even leaving time for him to make his way to the door to follow her before a few small groups of patrons filtered in for their stop on a Saturday bar crawl. With a loud scoff from Ruby, Killian stared down at the floor with an exasperated sigh. The broken shot glass was a quick reminder of the collection of screwups he was accumulating that night and he reached under the bar for a dust pan._

_God, what a mess he had to clean up._

###### 

He looked down at the bandage wrapped around his fingers in complete annoyance. Smashed glass really wasn't that difficult to clean up, but he'd botched the hell out of it in his distracted state. His functional hand moved very slowly as he opened the door, trying carefully to avoid the squeaking sound it usually made when it was first unlocked. The loft was silent but the dull overhead light of the kitchen was still glowing. He closed his eyes lazily in defeat as he silently rehearsed. It was late or ungodly early, but he knew that didn't matter. It was time to face the music and he could only pray he hadn't scratched up the record too badly.

Sure, they fought like a stubborn cat and a defensive dog, but he'd somehow grown to care about her. She'd been hurt enough in her life - it was the exact reason she'd ended up as their not so temporary visitor. She didn't need to add him to her list of heartless assholes and oddly enough, that wasn't how he wanted her to remember him. There were just so many other ways _and_ places he preferred to leave his mark. _Not the time or place_ , he berated himself.

Well, at least not _yet_.

Those words hung in his mind familiarly as Killian pulled his jacket off and hung it on the hook just adjacent to the door. He could hear her milling about just around the corner, a drawer being slammed and silverware clanging around telling him she was probably a little more than just annoyed with him. He took a final deep breath, one that he hoped might give him patience or strength or something - well, _anything_ that might save him from being devoured by the wrath of Emma Swan.

"Hi."

The single word was offered as some type of warning from her lips, given with a glare as she took a bite from the ice cream pint in her grip. She stared down at it with the clear intention of ignoring him, but he'd spent enough time dancing around eggshells with this woman. They were _bloody_ well going to talk.

"Well, I guess I've got some explaining to do," he started. "I just-"

"Shut up."

He paused, a hint of anger swelling within him as she shut down his attempt to clarify things. His eyes zeroed in on her, watching her put the container back in the freezer and throw the spoon into the sink with a loud clank before she walked right past him in departure.

God, why did she always have to be so _damn_ difficult?

"You know - I'm _really_ glad her name is Ruby," she finally said, crossing her arms as she spun back around. "I mean, who's next? Jade? Sapphire? Diamond? It's just great because they're all names of gemstones and possibly _strippers_ -"

"Right," he interrupted, holding up his hands in defeat. "I get it, Swan - you're pissed. Go ahead then….get it all out. I'm listening."

"I would, but _you_ can't see to shut your mouth long enough to let me say anything!"

"I _said_ I'm listening," he challenged. "Say what you're going to say, Emma."

"No, Killian," she shot back, her stare a dark green that made his skin tingle. "I don't want to talk to you about anything-"

"Well, why the hell not?!"

"Because you-"

"No, Swan - _this_ isn't about anything I've done," he argued. "It's about you! What the hell is your problem with me?"

"I am pretty sure neither of us have enough time to go through my huge list of issues concerning you-"

" _Try_ me, Emma."

He knew he should be enraged. He should have been well on his way to hostile as they stood in the dim glow of the kitchen, a fight brewing between them like a category five hurricane. Yet as he locked his sight on the passionate woman who was so talented at getting a rise out of him, he didn't feel mad. He felt tempted. He felt desired. He felt _alive_.

"You are such a ridiculous, overly confident, _infuriating_ jackass so much of the time, Killian - and quite frankly, it makes me want to scream at you."

" _Clearly_ ," he growled, pressing a hand firmly on the wood surface between them. "Though I don't think that's what you really want, love."

"You have no _idea_ what I want!"

"Perhaps not, but if I had to guess based on that _very_ challenging glare you're so skilled at offering, I'd say you don't really want to scream at me…."

His mind set into overdrive, the words leaving him in a frenzy and without much thought. Arousal clouded his head as he watched her formulate a response, her hands getting ready to illustrate her irritated point. God, he wondered what _else_ she could do with them.

"You don't have any idea what I-"

"All I'm saying is that _that_ look almost admits that what you'd really like to do-" he accused, his own steel blue eyes not backing down. "-is scream _for_ me."

Her eyes went wide as a hint of red warmed her cheeks, the arms she'd been flailing around in dramatic anger now hanging loosely at her sides. Killian was far too wrapped in wanting and lust to fully realize what he'd said, but even if he could, regretting it wasn't a card he'd choose to play anyway. The heat between them was suffocating as they stared back at one another, her hypnotic deep green eyes enveloping his own. He wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, but it certainly didn't seem long enough by the time she set back into shaking her annoyed head at him.

"Just stop, Killian-"

" _No_ , Swan - I won't," he shot back, his tone clipped and firm as he tossed caution into what was surely a high speed wind. "Because _you_ started this."

"Started _what?!_ There is _nothing_ to start-"

"Last weekend at the bar, Emma," he argued, his stare solid and simmering. "Before David came to drive you home….you said-"

"I didn't say _anything_ , Jones!"

"You said you want me."

Her mouth hung open slightly, a faintly audible gasp the only sound to rival the sudden snap of tension. So this was it - they were _finally_ going to do this. Killian tried to keep himself in that defiant stance as his head reeled through the million ideas that might define 'this'. Although it wasn't like he hadn't been doing that since the instant she'd put the idea of them being more than whatever they were in his head.

###### 

" _What's with the look, Swan?"_

" _Whaaa….huh?"_

_God, why did she have be so naively cute when she was so intoxicated? It was his fault honestly - he knew that. She'd stopped in, as had become routine, and started spouting off something about Neal dating some other woman while clenching her fists in that curse word accompanied way so he did what he typically did while at work - he poured her a drink._

_Okay, he poured her several drinks - and this one had her all sorts of glassy eyed and giggly._

" _You're looking at me like you looked at that cardboard box full of puppies at the grocery store the other day," he told her, angling his head sideways in analysis. "For the record, the answer is still no on getting a dog."_

" _You never let me do anything fun, Jones."_

" _I know," he grinned, stacking several bottle caps on top of each other. "But I have to run a tight ship."_

" _Aye-aye, Captain!"_

" _There ya go," he laughed, very amused at the way she drunkenly saluted his explanation before swallowing what was left in her glass. "Although you might be a bit too tipsy for sailing the high seas right now, love."_

" _Hey," she said tangentially, smiling as she set the empty tumbler down. "I like you."_

" _Uh, yeah," he chuckled, raising an eyebrow at her. "I guess I like you too, Emma."_

_He tried not to read into it as he finished drying off a few beer mugs, but when she drank, her voice always took on this sultry yet silly tone. For some ungodly and unknown reason, he couldn't stop pondering if the use of 'like' was some sort of strange understatement._

_God, why was he even contemplating that?_

" _I even like that shirt-" she slurred, pointing a finger at his typical plaid button down as she nearly fell off the stool. "-with all its….buttons."_

" _Yeah, it, uh, does have a few of them," he returned awkwardly, moving around to help her off the spinning seat to a nearby chair. "This is the first time you've actually refrained from calling it my 'stupid flannel' followed by telling me I need to learn how to iron."_

" _Well, you do! It gets all wrinkly and then I just-" she admitted, reaching for his hands as he pulled her up cautiously. "-want to rip it off you."_

_Holy hell. Killian tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy as his brain starting screaming a million different things at once. She was drunk. She hadn't meant that. There was just no way - even if some underlying part of him liked the idea she had just suggested._

_He couldn't entertain any such possibility at a time like this. No, not when she'd had far too much whiskey. Plus, there was a good chance David would put him in an early grave if he ever allowed himself to walk that path._

" _I didn't mean it like that, Jones," she grinned, shaking her head adorably as she held tight to his forearms. "I mean I did, but I….you wouldn't like that, huh?"_

_God, if she only knew._

" _Come on, little Miss Jack Daniels," he deflected, smiling weakly. "We can talk about the fate of my flannel later."_

" _Hey, I'm serious," she paused, steadying herself in his hold and giving him a look she really shouldn't. "What if I want to do that for real?"_

_He froze as she lifted onto her toes, his hands somehow keeping her vertical even though all he suddenly wanted was for them to be very horizontal. She leaned in a bit closer, the scent of alcohol on her warm breath sending chills over his skin. Her nose brushed his gently and her lips parted as he kept his stance as stable as possible._

" _I think-" she continued, her eyes glazed over and dark green. "-you like that idea."_

" _Emma," he breathed, trying and failing to step back. "Don't…."_

" _Why not?"_

" _Because you're not in your right mind, love."_

" _If I was though-"_

" _Just….come sit down," he said, tearing his stare away and attempting to direct her to the bench by the nearby booth. "I'm going to call David and see if he's around to-"_

" _Hey - wait," she replied, stopping on her shaky feet. "Kiss me."_

_Killian was almost positive she meant it - the fire simmering in that glossy, emerald gaze making his heart race. His mouth opened wordlessly as he shook his head, her arm curling a little tighter around his._

_Bloody hell, she had to stop doing that._

" _Swan, come on….sit down-"_

" _No," she defied, her voice firm as she stared a hole right through him. "Just kiss me."_

" _Emma-"_

" _God, Jones, just kiss me!"_

" _No, Emma! I can't," he almost yelled, his tone unexplainably nervous as he continued to hang onto her. "Not here. Not….yet…."_

_His response couldn't have been more spontaneous and Killian felt his heart sink when he realized what he'd said. The expression that spread like dangerous wildfire over her face was almost sobering as she ran her tongue over her lower lip. He took a trembling breath and tried to let her go, a feat that wasn't easy as she fell into his touch even further._

" _What….what's that supposed-"_

" _No - nothing! I didn't mean anything, Swan," he stuttered. "Just….wait here - or sit down. I need to….yeah."_

_He ripped himself away from her, the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers something he immediately missed. He watched her swivel back around on the stool in search of her shot glass before digging into his pocket for his phone._

_What the hell had just happened?_

###### 

_Oh dammit,_ he thought as he flexed his toes in his beat up Converse sneakers - the ones she teased him endlessly about. This was _not_ how this conversation was supposed to go.

"Shut up, Killian," she glared. " I did not-"

"You did though," he cut in, his tone firm and slightly accusatory. "You did say so in a way that referred to me as 'the guy who was about to get as lucky as a leprechaun in Ireland' while completely plastered _after_ you tried to kiss me, but you-"

"I did _not_ -"

"Yes, you did, Swan - and I know you were drunk so if it was just something the alcohol was saying then that's cool. In fact, it's fine - we'll move on and not talk about it," he continued, his words falling quickly from his mouth as he gave up on holding back. "But it is something that I've thought a lot about."

"Killian…."

"But you've never been clear or direct about things, Emma and I-"

"What the _hell_ are you even talking about?!"

"Do you want to have sex with me - yes or no?!"

"Yes! Errr….no! I mean, yes - I _did_ , but…."

His eyes went wide as he tried to process the words they'd been yelling at one another. His breath was heavy and labored as he stood there, wondering if the air had actually been knocked out of him. An admission like that was certainly capable of such a thing.

"But, what, Emma?"

"But that was before I knew you were doing…. _that_ ….with that girl!"

"Forget that - forget her, Swan," he said firmly. "Just answer the question."

"It doesn't matter what I say because even if I did want that, it would never _ever_ work between us, Killian!"

"What do you….I mean, okay - _fine_ ," he stammered. "But why do you think that though?"

"Because you drive me _nuts_ , Jones! Because you're always making those terrible innuendoes like you're a goddamn Casanova with that stupid, _stupid_ smirk on your face-"

"I smirk because you are so _bloody_ unbearable sometimes! Alway listening to that sodding 80's rock and leaving your million pairs of boots _everywhere_ -"

"Oh, _whatever_ ," she groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. "As if that guitar pounding garbage you listen to is any better! In fact, why don't you go put some on and get a beer so you can drink your life away on the couch while deleting every _single_ thing off the DVR except that annoying pirate show or whatever the hell it is that you record every _freaking_ week!"

"Says the girl who watches nothing but some outlandish fairytale drama every _damn_ Sunday and then proceeds to predict the thousand possible outcomes of future episodes for the other six days of the week," he snapped, his hands illustrating his frustration. "Oh and all this coming from someone who had to get hammered drunk to even admit-"

"Don't you even _dare_ say that I actually meant whatever the hell it is that you think I said-" she argued, kicking her shoes toward the couch. "-because I didn't!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes - _really_ ," she answered, her cheeks red with irritation. "Because that is the absolute last thing I'd _ever_ want."

"Fine," he bit back, his eyes offering a challenge. "Then prove it."

Her face flushed even more as she glared back at him, the green shade of her irises almost daring but definitely defensive. Several long blonde tendrils of her wavy hair had fallen out of her ponytail and the several buttons on the red top she was wearing had been left undone. Bloody _hell_ \- as if he didn't have enough keeping him on edge. She moved a little closer, her feet bare and padding lightly on the floor.

"I don't have to prove _anything_ to you, Jones."

The firm, concluding line almost smacked him in the face as she stormed off in complete fury. Her stomping was more forceful as she headed up the hallway, nothing but his eyes trailing after her. With a soft groan, Killian slid onto the stool next to the kitchen island and dropped his head to rest on the countertop. The fact that Emma's slamming bedroom door matched the dull sound of his face hitting the surface was merely a form of irony.

He felt like such a fool whenever they fought like this. It was one hundred percent ridiculous considering how similar they truly were - stubborn, structured, solitary. His head reeled with the memory of the bar and the awful predicament he'd wedged himself into with this Emma and Ruby thing. Truthfully, it was no contest - as much as she pissed him off, the woman who was supposed to be temporary had become quite a fixture in his life. Somehow, Emma had become one of his best friends. He liked having her around. He didn't want to lose her.

They were _friends_ though - nothing more. Killian let the finality of that decision sink in as he sat back up, tapping his fingers on his knee. Well, he could only _hope_ it was still true. He'd done the typical Killian Jones act of souring everything that meant anything, the predictable routine of turning lemonade back into lemons that he'd gotten so good at over the course of….well, basically his entire life.

###### 

" _You're such a freaking planner about everything," she groaned, grabbing a napkin to tuck into her pocket for when the ice cream cone she just bought started to melt. "I mean, you didn't even look at the menu, Jones. Did you honestly have what flavor you wanted picked out before we even got here?"_

_They'd only been down to the nearly vacant harbor twice in the dark before - both times when he'd been trying to distract her from her typical Emma ways of brooding over a broken heart. Okay, the second time they'd taken the downhill walk there because he was the one pouting over the past and she had a theory that rocky road was a better solution than rum, but the plan of wandering the waterside for distraction had been his idea first._

_For the record, she didn't get rocky road, but he did - mostly just to see her amused reaction. It was worth it._

" _Hey, there's nothing wrong with knowing what you want," he retorted, winking in a way that he knew would shut her up. "Besides, if I didn't start thinking about it before getting here, I'd probably let your impulsive nature influence me and end up with some sort of weird blue bubblegum concoction."_

" _All I'm saying is that I think you think too much about….well, about everything from what I can tell. I bet you've always been that way, huh?"_

_He didn't know how to feel about the way she saw right through him, but his crumbling walls didn't concern him as much as they should have. He'd eventually figure out how she managed to do that._

" _I don't….okay, maybe - yeah," he admitted. "But what's so crazy about avoiding risks, Swan? It's safer and quite frankly smarter."_

" _But less fun," she smirked, taking an oddly tempting taste of her ice cream. "I mean, have you ever done anything you're not supposed to do, Killian?"_

" _Look, Swan, I'm….I'm not that kind of guy I guess," he continued, trying to string together a valid explanation. "I'm not a creature of chance. I can't just jump into something if I don't know what's going to happen and I never have been that guy."_

" _But if you could do anything in the whole world without this elaborate patented Killian Jones thought process-" she teased, stepping in front of him as they reached the sandy edge of the well known bay. "-what would you do?"_

" _It doesn't matter, Swan, because I'm not like that," he smiled, shaking his head. "I mean, I'm the guy who stands on the beach and guards the wallets while everyone else goes swimming. It's just how I am."_

" _Yeah and your rules have gotten you so far, Jones," she replied, her eyes suddenly bright with an idea as she reached for his ice cream cone. "Here - let me see that."_

" _Emma, no," he groaned, his eyes wide as she threw it in the nearby trash can. "I wasn't finished with that!"_

" _You'll get over it," she laughed, doing the same with hers before removing her sandals and stepping onto the beach. "Now come on…."_

" _What are you doing, Swan? Going swimming in the moonlight?"_

" _Hmmm - maybe," she grinned, pulling her sweater over her head to reveal a somewhat sheer tank top. "Let's not think about it for once. Now, move it or else you're going to get beaten in the race to the water….by a girl."_

_Her bare feet moved swiftly across the sand as she held her sandals loosely, letting them swing back and forth in her grip. She glanced back at him with inviting eyes, a green pair that made him wonder if it truly was that easy - or if it was possible that she could make it that easy._

_Maybe she could. Maybe one day, he'd get to find out._

###### 

With his head pounding and his cut up hand aching, he followed her path with frustrated feet but paused in the hallway to turn toward his own bedroom. Shoving the door open and closing it forcefully behind him suddenly made his blood simmer. Why was she the one who always got the final word? Why was he so willing to let her push him away when things got uncomfortable? Killian clenched his injured fist tighter than he knew he should with a subtle wince as he made a quick decision.

This conversation wasn't over - not by a long shot.

He turned on his heel, pulling the brass knob so hard that the hinges squeaked and his breath heaved. His mind was filling with determination and his feet were about to move when her bedroom door opened unexpectedly. A hint of surprise seemed to float between them, lingering in the corridor as she glared at him and he waited for her words. Her lips parted after a moment, her firm yet submissive tone once again telling him what to do - but this time, he was okay with her bossy two word direction.

"Come _here_."

He descended across the hallway, his feet flying across the floorboards as she moved toward him. The tension that had been building for months now collapsed like the poorly built television stand they'd argued over after a recent IKEA trip and Killian's working hand grasped her jaw, pulling her lips hard against his own. A startled moan escaped her and he growled softly as her mouth parted, finally letting her tongue brush lightly against his. The heat of his touch seemed to coax her closer and as the kiss deepened, she reached for his bandaged fingers.

"Oh, god _dammit_ , Swan!"

"Wha….what the _hell_ is wrong with your hand?!"

"I cut it at work cleaning up the _bloody_ shot glass _you_ made me drop!"

"Oh, yeah, because everything is _my_ fault," she groaned, gritting her teeth lightly as she tugged on the collar of his shirt. "I'm not the one who-"

"Shut up," he interrupted, nipping at her lower lip. "For once in your life, Swan, just _shut_ -"

"Stop telling me what to-" she snapped, her jaw dropping with a whine when he moved them against the front door. "-do…. _god_ , be careful!"

"Bloody hell, I'm _sorry!_ If you'd just stop being so stubborn then...because I didn't _mean_ to push you like that," he returned, his words tense as he stroked the part of her scalp that had bumped the flat surface. "So stop yelling at me-"

"Well, I have a _headache_ , Jones! I'm just asking you not to make it worse in the process of-"

"Stop talking, Emma," he pleaded, his lips kissing her collarbone. "This is not the time to-"

"Maybe _you_ should stop talking, Killian," she deflected, holding back a gasp as she drove her hands into his hair with a firm pull. "Since you're always so-"

"I will if you-" he cut in, pushing his hips into hers. "-just…. _god_ , take off your clothes, Emma. I'm serious - take off your clothes right _now_."

"Fine I will," she conceded, pausing to fumble with the buttons on his shirt while he kissed her hard. "But if you think that I'm just going to-"

"I don't….I mean, I'm _not_ …."

"What-"

"Let's just not think about it, Emma," he finally said, his shirt hanging open as her hands rested on his chest. "For once."

She tilted her head slightly, the sound of her own words leaving his lips definitely catching her attention. He let his mouth hover above hers for a moment as he drew a ragged breath. The wait for her reaction seemed to take ages, but the soft smile that quickly accompanied it made standing on pins and needles all too worth it.

"Okay," she breathed, reaching up to brush aside the hair hanging over his eyes. "If that's what you want."

"I want _you_ , Swan," he replied in a quiet tone. "I've _never_ even needed to think about that."

Her smile spread weakly, her fingers tangling in the mess of hair at the back of his head as his lips slammed back into hers. With her back pressed against the door, she writhed against him uncontrollably and he quickly grabbed the hem of her skirt to pull up over her hip. His fingers danced along the bar skin of her thigh, climbing higher until the hit the lacy fabric so carefully concealed under the clothes she'd picked out. He groaned against her mouth, the knowledge that she'd been wearing that same material when she'd stopped by to visit him suddenly making his jeans tighter. His thumb stroked the thin waistline and she let out a choked gasp, her head falling back against the door as he slid the lacy garment down to the floor.

"You're going to be the _death_ of me, Swan," he exhaled, his teeth teasing the length of her throat while his fingers brushed the wetness between her legs. "But first-"

He left his own words hanging in the air as he dropped to his knees, shoving the material of her skirt up further as he pressed kisses up the inside of her legs. Emma let out a needy sound, her shaky hands holding the fabric up around her waist so his exploration could progress. It was all the assistance he needed and the whimpering moan she gave up when his tongue swiped lightly along the damp space between her legs. He couldn't help the grin he pressed against her skin before his mouth continued to move, the alternating pattern of his tongue and teasing teeth making her squirm as he held her steady with his palms behind her thighs.

" _God_ , love," he breathed, his own voice as unsteady as hers. "You're trembling…."

"I-I can't help it," she replied with a soft laugh. "You are just…. _oh_ , really good at that."

"Is that-" he started, stopping to thrust his tongue a bit harder over a place that made her vibrate against his lips. "-approval from Emma Swan?"

"It…. _god_ , could be….if you keep…. _going_."

He pulled her closer, his hold on her almost too tight as he devoured her. He'd imagined this several times before - the way she'd rut against him, the noises that would fall from her lips as she rode the brink of pleasure, the feel of her hands tugging forcefully on his hair. The reality of the moment was so beyond the depths of what he'd hoped for - and the fact that he was done denying it was even better.

"Yes, _Killian_ ….please-"

" _Come_ , love," he begged, sucking and moving his mouth rhythmically. "I've got you, Emma. Let go."

She fell apart instantly, heeding his request as the last bit of restraint between them shattered. He continued to tease her as his tongue moved back and forth, her weak hands guiding him alongside his own driven desire. Giving her a minute to catch her breath, he pulled back to glance up at her as the wrinkled material of her skirt fell back over her bare and sated flesh.

"Hi."

He almost had to laugh at the word she'd picked - it was the same one she'd angrily selected when he'd walked through the door not long earlier. She seemed to realize it too and a smirk curved at the corner of her mouth.

God, she was so _beautiful_.

"A speechless Emma Swan," he sighed, rising back to his feet and running a thumb over her cheek in a slow stroke. "I guess it is a day for firsts."

"Hmmm," she mused, giving him a playful gaze. "I bet you're just loving this, aren't you?"

"Perhaps," he teased, his voice raspy and thick. "Quiet might be overrated though."

"That almost sounds like a change of heart, Jones."

He tried to maintain some sense of stability as her hands slid the flannel from his shoulders, her touch warm and smooth as it brushed against his shoulders. She gave him that same heated stare he'd been battling with for god knows how long now and he glanced longingly at her lips, the desire to kiss them almost too much to resist. Bloody hell, she was going to _wreck_ him.

"So you're not going to keep telling me-" she taunted. "-to shut up?"

Her fingertips danced along the denim waist of his jeans, making his eyes close as he melted under her touch. He felt the clench of her body as she flipped open the button on his pants and listened to the stuttering sound of her breath as she tugged on the zipper. Killian wasn't sure where his control had gone, but he decided not to wonder as he leaned in to bite gently at the space just below her ear.

"I guess I'm….okay….with the things you say-" he replied with a halting groan. "-and the sounds….you _make_."

"Good," she whispered, her hand slipping beneath the fabric of his boxer briefs. "Because I really don't want to be quiet."

He grinned against her neck, rutting upward into her gentle grip. She kept her hand steady in a way that wasn't fair and he drew a careful line of kisses down her chest, trying to coax her to move. She obliged him slightly before bringing his mouth back to hers with a slow, burning kiss that quickly convinced him she had her reasons. It was probably fortunate seeing as how his weren't coherent at the moment.

" _Killian_ ," she said, letting her top lip graze his lower one. "We shouldn't do this here."

He processed her words with his hazy head, realizing quite quickly that she was right. The last thing he needed was for David to walk in on his best friend and his little sister ravishing one another in the hallway.

"Too right, love," he agreed between kisses before reaching down to grasp her backside. " _Here_ \- up, Swan."

She let out an amused giggle as he tickled the expanse of skin on the back of her thighs, effectively drawing her legs tightly around his waist as he pulled her back into a deep kiss as he walked them back up the hallway to his bedroom. He tried not to remind himself about the thousands of times he'd thought of what she'd look like sprawled across the dark blue color of his comforter. Setting her down carefully on the edge of the mattress, he thanked some higher power that he didn't have to imagine it anymore.

"Take these-" she demanded, that no nonsense quality of her voice suddenly much more appreciated as she pulled on his jeans. "-stupid things _off_."

"Gladly, love," he nodded, pushing the denim down past his knees and kicking them away. "Though we both know you don't really feel that way about them."

A slight blush colored her cheeks, one that was barely visible in the darkness of his room, but he still reveled in it. He'd caught her staring at him when he'd sported the pants in question multiple times over the months she'd lived in the loft. He had caught her glassy stare when he bent down to pick up the recycling bin mid complaint about something or other and he'd seen her curious smirk when she eyed how the hems slightly covered his bare feet when he wandered toward the counter in search of morning coffee. Needless to say, that particular article of clothing had become well worn in almost no time at all.

"I'm pretty sure you don't know my feelings on a lot of things," she responded, yanking him closer by the elastic band of his boxer briefs. "You're too busy being all talk to listen."

"Ah, well, I can assure you I'm definitely _not_ -" he refuted, pulling her fingers up against the bulge just under the cotton material. "-all talk, love."

"Hmmm," she breathed, looking up at him as she shoved his remaining clothing to the carpet. "I guess it's about time I find out."

It was torment to pry his lips from hers as he pulled her sweater over her head, her blonde waves of hair far too beautiful against her pale skin. The zipper on her skirt was tough to access and she helped guide his hand in tossing it to the floor with the other discarded articles. The feel of her naked skin against his was something he'd pondered so many times, but as she rolled them over and straddled his abdomen, he knew there was no way his distracted mind could have ever done this moment justice.

"Killian," she mumbled, pressing kisses in a sporadic pattern down his chest. "Do you want…."

Her words trailed off as his fingers traced the length of her spine, moving lower and back around to hold her thighs. He moved his hips experimentally before lifting her just enough that she could sink down on him. Her lips parted as he started to thrust slowly, observing every little reaction she offered before he pulled her close so he could sit up while she rode him.

" _Yes_ , Swan," he confirmed, his grin tentative and needy. "I do want."

His arms wrapped around her as her legs braced on opposite sides of his hips. She straightened slightly, kneeling and rocking forward as her hands anchored themselves on his shoulders. Killian felt his nerves spike as her body began a slow grind against his and he took a stabilizing breath before diving back in to kiss her. The tilt of her head was easily guided by his injured yet still caressing hand and the soft moan she let out when his opposite palm pressed firmly on her lower back was enough to test his control.

" _Emma_ \- oh, god…. _yes_ …."

"Killian," she pleaded, her voice a desperate sound has she took him deeper. "That's so…. _oh_ , please…. _don't_ stop-"

" _Never_ , love," he answered, flipping them quickly and spreading her legs apart a bit further while he surged forward again at a faster rate. "I want you so much. Yes - _yes_ , you feel so…. _good_ , Emma."

There was something about using her actual name while pressing her into his sheets that pulled Killian into a whirlwind of intimacy he didn't know to be real. He felt himself fading fast, nearly an inevitable edge when she pulsed around him with a muffled cry of ecstasy that sounded a lot like his name. His lips slammed back into hers as he followed her, her kiss quieting the moan of release that would have been far too loud otherwise. Moving his body against hers instinctively, Killian waited for her hips to still before he collapsed with his head on her shoulder and her fingers tangled in his hair. He smiled weakly against her skin when her nails began a soft scratching pattern on his scalp, the sure sign that she was still awake and simply there.

That's really all he needed to know - that she'd finally lowered the final wall between them and moved forward instead performing her predictable backsliding act. That's what he focused on as he rolled sideways and coaxed her back into his arms.

"Hey," she said softly, turning to face him. "I meant what I said - just so you know."

"Hmmm," he mumbled. "You said a _lot_ of things, Swan."

"About how you don't have to always plan things, Killian," she smiled. "Sometimes the best things happen when you decide to stop thinking so much."

He couldn't help the lazy smirk that curved at the edge of his mouth, his arms coming around her as snuggled against his chest. Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, he listened to her breathing even out as they laid in total satisfied solitude. That wasn't a feeling that existed often between them and bloody hell, he was going to cherish it.

"I suppose I should say something that I _really_ don't want to then."

She peeked up at him, a slight confusion on her face as she raised an eyebrow. There was the tiniest bit of panic in her expression and he placed a finger under her chin to coax her into a kiss. As cute as she was in a state of perplexity, he didn't want her feeling uncertain about anything in that instant.

"You were right, Swan," he smiled, tucking a stray blond strand behind her ear. "This one time."

" _Ah_ ," she laughed, dragging her fingertips through the hair on his chest. "I wouldn't mind getting used to the way that sounds."

"Don't push it, love."

"Hmmm," she mumbled, grinning against his skin. "We both know I plan to."

"Aye, darling," he nodded as he pulled her closer. "I know."

* * *

"Killian! Have you seen Emma? She's not been answering my phone calls all morning and I-"

"Dave! Really?!"

The room had only been filled with steam for a few minutes, the sound of the a hot shower spraying just behind the dark red curtain in the bathroom. Killian nearly slipped on the wet tile at the sound of his best friend's voice intruding on such a pleasant morning - one that was currently included the kneeling position and salacious smile of Emma Swan, the girl who had just become so much more than a houseguest but was still very much the younger sister of the man yelling questions behind the swaying plastic screen.

God, David was going to _kill_ him - well, assuming that _she_ didn't first.

She smirked, biting her lip and looking up as her hand wrapped carefully around him. He fought with everything he had to keep quiet, swallowing the groans that kept pulsing through his throat. Her grip was gentle but measuring in firm strokes that were driving him completely mad. Watching her mouth move forward and letting his eyes hinge on the path her tongue took from the tip right down the length of him was torture and Killian felt his entire body go stiff.

He was going to drown - first in complete ecstasy and then in the warm water pounding down on both of them.

"Bloody _fu_ -"

He quickly bit his tongue before the curse could continue, his restraint melting away as she jerked him closer. Her fingertips pressed hard into the back of his legs as she took him deeper in her mouth, allowing him to rut his hips at a steady speed. It was almost too much but yet not enough as she sucked harder, the warning of release pulsing through his veins as she hummed around him.

"Oh, _shit_ -"

"Jones? You good?"

 _Dammit_ , his head screamed at him. He'd been so wrapped up in the way she had that mouth wrapped around him that he'd nearly forgotten about the inquiry David who'd just burst into the bathroom in search of the woman currently trying to ruin him.

How the _hell_ had this happened?

"Yeah, I'm, uh…. _fine_ …."

He shook his head at her, his teeth sinking deeper into his bottom lip as she kept moving. She _had_ to stop. They were going to get caught. The warnings filled his heightened senses as he thrust a little deeper, his length testing the back of her throat as she brought a hand back up to tease him.

"You sound strange," David continued, the sound of the sink running muffling his words. "Why are you-"

"I just….I cut my hand last night….at work," Killian stammered, trying to keep some sliver of composure. "The w-water's just a _little_ hot. Kinda makes it s-sting. I have…. _haven't_ seen Emma though."

"God, I don't know where she is then," David groaned. "I called her four different times this morning and she's not in her room. Sometimes she's just such a pain in the ass, ya know?"

"Yeah, I….know," Killian choked, his fingers tangled firmly in her wet hair. "I'll...let her know when, err, _if_ I see her - that you're looking for her, I mean."

"Thank, Jones," David replied. "I just don't know where she could-"

" _David_ ," Killian almost growled. "Can we p-please finish this little chat l-later?"

"Ugh, fine - but if you find her, tell her she has some explaining to do."

The door had barely closed when one final motion of her tongue pushed him over the edge in a rush. He muffled his moan the best he could as his knees wobbled a bit, her mouth moving slower as he rode out the wave of euphoria. His eyes blinked lazily as she moved back to her feet and Killian let his forehead fall lightly against hers.

"You are completely out of your _mind_ , Swan."

"Perhaps," she grinned, kissing him gently. "I do have some explaining to do though if I heard that correctly."

"We both will if we aren't more careful," he told her, arching an eyebrow. "Are we….I mean, what do you think we should tell the guys?"

"Mmmm," she replied, shivering as his fingers traced her spine. "The truth I guess."

"Which is?"

"Well," Emma smirked, her eyes taunting and dark emerald. "That _you_ started it."

He laughed softly at her determination, shaking his head before diving back in to kiss her. Her lips were so compliant that it didn't take long to settle back into a series of heated kisses and even more scorching touches as the water soaked every inch of them. As Killian listened to her soft gasp when his teeth nipped at her jaw and the amused giggle she gave up when his hands tickled her ribs, he realized that maybe there was something to this rule breaking thing - and maybe, he'd just have to keep on doing it to be sure.


	10. Not A Party Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little summer smut to celebrate the season! Thank you all for being so patient with me while I finished up the school year - so excited to get back to working on the MCs now! :] Enjoy this while I sort through my million unfinished things for a good starting place!

"Alright, I think we're good to go."

Emma couldn't help the successful smile that pulled at the corners of her lips as she looked out over the spread. It had taken several weekends of planning, a few sleepless nights, and a couple hours of set up with her swindled subordinates, but she'd pulled it off. Well, this was the second time actually - and while she wasn't about to give up her days in an air conditioned office to plan parties in the outdoor heat, there was something oddly satisfying about orchestrating the company's summer barbecue.

Of course, she'd totally deny that if ever asked - the last thing she wanted was to get roped into this again next year. Working in human resources was never supposed to include this type of 'catering' to the needs of the employees.

"I think you're right," August nodded, dropping the cooler he'd been holding onto the freshly stained deck underfoot. "It looks like we've got plenty of space and we _only_ lost one six pack of beer to casualty. Well done, Swan."

"If by 'casualty', you mean at the hands of you, Will, and Graham-" she rolled her eyes. "-then yeah _,_ I'd say it _wasn't_ a preventable sacrifice."

"Glad you understand," he laughed, flipping open the cooler and digging through the ice. "I can assure you that you'll probably find us a _bit_ more tolerable with a few already in our system - primarily Will, of course."

Emma had to chuckle a little at that comment. It wasn't really a secret to anyone that she wasn't that fool's biggest fan, but when it came down to delegating the manual labor, she'd decided to tolerate Will's indistinguishable accent and ridiculous demeanor in lieu of doing the heavy lifting alone.

August, however, had been his typically dependable self and almost too easy to convince. He'd always had her back in that endearing big brotherly sort of way, even though she technically held workplace seniority over him. He'd teased her a little of course, implying his surprise at the fact that she was actually asking for help.

Seeking assistance was _rarely_ part of Emma Swan's game plan.

"Thanks for your help, Booth," she smiled, smoothing the edge of a tablecloth. "I mean, I know I didn't _really_ give you a choice, but-"

"Hey, I'm the one that should be thanking _you_ for getting me out of more wedding planning," he cut in, waving his hand in dismissal. "I don't know how many more variations of the color white on reception chairs I can comment on before they all blend together."

"I'm sure you and your keen eye were greatly missed," Emma smirked. "Is Ruby coming by tonight then or are you going to be forced to keep company with Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Idiot all night?"

She nodded toward Graham and Will, the two men who worked in the shipping warehouse as they argued loudly about how to properly ignite the grill. Emma quickly tried to calculate the odds of them burning the deck to the ground, but figured it best to leave that to the accounting department. She'd have to task Archie with that when he arrived.

"Nothing like a proper slay of classic literature characters, Swan," he laughed, twisting the cap off the bottle he'd finally found. "But yes, Ruby will be here in an hour or so. I'll make sure to mention that you'd love to give your input on what color of lily will work best in the centerpieces. I think she's only been pondering the answer to that for….maybe _two_ months?"

"Hmmm - can't _wait_ ," Emma groaned, shaking her head in amusement. "I guess in the meantime, I should make sure the other two Stooges aren't playing with matches over there. I'd really prefer _not_ to fry the CEO's backyard to a crisp."

"Yeah, I don't wager Ms. Mills would be too pleased with that," August agreed. "Maybe I'll swing by the office for the fire extinguisher on my way back - you know, _just_ in case."

"Probably smart," Emma said with a quick thumbs up as she watched Will singe Graham's fingers between the sounds of their colorful cursing. "Well, maybe _definitely_ smart is more accurate."

Emma could only hope that the night truly would go off without a hitch - the shenanigans of her stupidly competitive employees aside.

###### 

It was only an hour into the evening when she allowed herself to believe that maybe the night _wasn't_ destined for chaos. She'd had plenty of assistance putting out food and napkins the moment Mary Margaret - one of the office secretaries and the prior organizer of events like this one until she took her maternity leave - showed up with that helpful demeanor. Her husband David had immediately offered to monitor the two imbeciles still debating the proper temperature of the titanium barbecue. Even the top boss, Regina, didn't look regretful about hosting the party as she chatted up a few board members with what _almost_ looked like a smile.

The lanterns that had been strung overhead glowed invitingly across the yard and the noise of a genuinely good time filled the warm night air. Bottle caps were tossed aside as people took to the beer in the several chilled coolers and the sudden promise of a karaoke machine from Leroy, their on site maintenance guy, kept things lively as the hours started to dissolve. The mixed up sound of various conversations and laughter was the final confirmation she'd been needing. _This_ was what it was supposed to be like. _This_ was why she'd agreed to be the event coordinator for this one annual night.

 _Not bad_ , Swan, she thought quietly as she watched the summer party in full swing.

Allowing the feel of relaxation to spread over her shoulders, Emma took a quick swallow from her own beer and found instant relief in the smooth sailing she'd somehow carried out.

Well, that's what she thought was going on - _right_ up until the moment she turned to find him sauntering through the open gate. _He_ was _not_ the reason she'd consented to play party planner.

"Son of a bitch," she mumbled quietly, closing her eyes in frustration. "Why tonight..."

"Killian! You made it," David's voice rang out from several paces away as he flipped a few hamburgers. "Grab a beer and come over here - Graham's going to fill me in on where I should go fishing next week."

"Aye, mate," he grinned, his smile annoyingly genuine before he moved his bright gaze back to her. "Just give me a minute and I'll be right there."

Emma gripped the bottle a _little_ harder, quickly wanting to slap herself for the way her tongue slid over her lower lip. He walked effortlessly and with a suave leisure that only he could manage, his canvas boat shoes plodding on the deck as he moved in her direction. His jeans were faded but well worn as the denim clung to his lean legs. She tried to control her wandering mind as she watched him remove his dark shades and sling them on the slightly undone collar of his henley, the red flannel shirt he'd chosen to wear over it suddenly having way too many buttons for her liking. How the _hell_ he was managing to stroll across the deck in pursuit of making the simplistic dressing of 'Casual Fridays' nothing but a myth was beyond her - but _god_ , he looked good doing it.

As her pulse pounded in her temples, Emma tried to tear her eyes away from that cobalt blue shade of his with zero success. Truthfully that color could probably burn a hole right through her - and even more honest was the fact that she really wouldn't mind that one _bit_.

"Swan," he greeted, that thickly woven accent making her skin tingle. "A pleasure to see you as always. I must apologize for my late arrival - the conference droned on slightly longer than anticipated."

He bent slightly, his locked stare not leaving hers as he procured his own beer bottle and brushed off the remnants of ice from the cooler. Without a bottle opener in sight - not that he'd bothered to actually _check_ \- he tested the beer's cap with a tight twist, his bicep bulging just enough to notice. Emma's hazy mind screamed at her to stop looking when he flipped the little metal lid into the nearby trash bag. His eyes were determined and devious as he took a long swallow, the act exposing the length of his neck and the quick flex of his defined jaw.

God, why did he _have_ to do that?

"Not a problem," she said, finally snapping out of it enough to answer. "The one downtown, right?"

"Aye - the burden of keynote speaking I suppose."

"Yeah, I bet," she quipped. "Though if the event actually _was_ a drag, I suppose your esteemed position might make you responsible for that, right?"

"Oh, I can assure you it was _plenty_ interesting," he grinned, his lips curving upward in a most tempting way. "So much so that I figured it's necessary to account for my tardiness with the woman in charge. I figured you'd be in high spirits with playing authority - I know how you like being the one to make the _rules_."

Emma fought the urge to roll her eyes. He _never_ missed a chance to taught her about working in the company's human resource department. It was difficult to be the person judging professionalism when you worked in the same building as a man who sauntered around flirtatiously while reminding you of his superiority - though he _barely_ was. Aside from the shameless charm she'd come to expect and actually somewhat enjoy, he liked to remind her about his seniority with that cheesy line about her 'working directly under him' and constantly sent her sexual harassment memos like his email account had a forwarding malfunction. She always responded with the weak threat of filing a complaint, but he had a way with that teasing wink that made her forget to fill out whatever form she'd need for that. It wasn't like _he_ couldn't fill one out in return about the way she stared at him or the manner in which she'd brush up against him while filling her coffee mug each morning.

No, there wasn't a form designed for documenting all of the inappropriate actions she wanted to concerning him - and even if there was, the paperwork would probably be _such_ a pain in the ass.

"Like I said - I don't really mind," she replied, brushing him off. "I didn't really think you were coming anyway."

Truthfully, she didn't. He'd been out of the office since Tuesday, attending the sales convention he'd committed to months ago. She'd tried to ignore that weird pang in her stomach that suggested she'd missed seeing him in the office the past few days. No, Emma Swan wasn't in the business of pining for _anyone_ \- especially not the man who conducted _actual_ business just across the hall.

"And miss all this? Not likely, love," he returned, leaning in a little closer. "Nobody throws a party like Emma Swan."

"Oh, _right_ ," she scoffed. "I guess Mary Margaret and her top of the line catering company plus year long planning were _so_ inefficient at previous parties then. _Please_ , Jones - that woman was created to plan events."

"Maybe so, but I _guess_ -" he smirked with a subtle eyebrow arch. "-I kind of like the way you do it."

His eyes lit up with a blue sort of mischief, the kind that always accompanied his innuendos and pulled shivers down her back as she tried to keep her knees stable. He took another drink from the frosty bottle he held carefully in his hand and his tongue grazed his wet lower lip. Emma felt her composure hit the floor as she let out a weak gasp.

He really, _really_ needed to stop that.

"You don't have to flatter me, Jones," Emma retorted, narrowing her eyes at him. "I'm not doing this for your amusement."

"Well, maybe not yet," he taunted. "But if you decide you'd like a reminder of how this whole evening went _last_ year, I'll be by the fire. I'd be happy to reminisce - you know, for old time's sake and all that."

That cocky, unbelievable, stupid _jerk_. Emma felt her face flush as her eyes hinged on the way his silver tongue grazed his teeth. They were _not_ discussing this.

"Right," she finally said. "Keep dreaming, Killian."

"Oh, I intend to," he smiled, holding up his half empty bottle and tilting the neck toward her. "Cheers, love."

The soft clink broke the thick air between them and Emma blinked rapidly, her shoulders slumping as she watched him walk away in the direction of the grill with that smug smirk on his beautiful face. God, she _hated_ him sometimes - so why the hell did she want him so badly the _rest_ of the time?

###### 

The next hour was pure torment as she tried to convince herself that she _wasn't_ watching him. He'd been chatting up David and those other blokes her company had recruited from across the pond a few years earlier since the moment he left her all slack jawed on the deck. It was those words that he almost whispered to her - the ones about her desiring a repeat of the previous year's event - that had shivers dancing in sporadic patterns across her skin.

Butterflies seemed to flurry in her stomach as she tried not to give him a second thought. Killian never had been easy to ignore though and Emma struggled not to smile at the fact that he'd actually gone out of his way to show up - _even_ if he'd only done so to torment her. The hearty sound of his amused laugh and the flicker of his little glances seemed to make the surrounding world a little blurry. With a rapid look at her feet and another quick sip of her drink, Emma gave herself a mental slap.

This was a night of no distractions. It _had_ to be. She couldn't get lost in that very unintentional memory of Killian Jones - even though sometimes she _truly_ wanted to.

###### 

" _Well, Em, you pulled it off," Graham grinned, holding his beer up high. "Cheers to you and your party planning ethic!"_

" _Oh, yeah - cheers to me," Emma laughed, taking a huge sip of her margarita. "I'm just glad I don't ever have to do this again."_

" _Ha! I don't believe that for a second," August chimed in. "Mary Margaret is going to get wind of this and next thing you know, you'll be working as the company's actual event coordinator."_

" _I don't think-"_

" _I'm with Booth on this one, Swan. Being good at your newly acquired job certainly isn't going to do you any favors if you're wanting to lay low."_

_The words were laced with a bit of prideful humor and a slightly slurred accent from behind her. She tipped her head back, not sure that trusting her feet while her third margarita of the night was unsteadily in her hand was a good idea. That sultry voice only belonged to one person - that handsomely smug bastard whose office was just across the hall from hers._

" _What Killian is trying to say, Em-" August cut in, his voice loud and slowly growing more intoxicated as he tossed Killian another beer. "-is that you should keep planning company parties because we end up with the leftover alcohol!"_

" _Is that a good thing-" Emma hiccuped as she closed one eye. "-or a bad thing?"_

" _Good for the libatious men you work with I'd say, love," Killian commented with a chuckle, setting his nearly downed bottle back on the table. "Not good for you though seeing as how you're about to tumble off that chair and into the fire pit."_

" _Pfff, I am not, Jones," she told him, waving her hand in dismissal. "I am not even drink….or drunk - I mean."_

" _Makes perfect sense to me," August laughed, holding his bottle up as Graham followed suite. "In fact, cheers to that!"_

" _Hold on - I need a refill," Emma announced as she pulled her empty glass to eye level. "I'll be right back."_

" _Whoa, whoa," Killian grinned, grabbing her elbow as she stood unstably. "Come on, I'll go with you, Swan - at least until you find your land legs."_

" _Very he….heroic of you, Killian," she giggled, her appreciation slurred and flirty. "This way, captain."_

###### 

Emma yanked herself out of the recollection and back into the present just in time to catch him glancing her way. His blue gaze singled her out fast, even from a distance and his firm grip on the beer shifted slightly. She wasn't sure how he could vanquish the world around her with one look, but it didn't take long for that persistent stare of his to make one thing perfectly clear.

She _had_ to get out of there.

Offering only the necessary smile or polite wave in passing, Emma moved down the side steps of the deck at record speed. She could hear her heeled sandals smack the sidewalk with a bit more effort than she planned on, but the noise was worth a smooth getaway. She reached the side of her boss's elaborate home with a sigh of relief, tangling her hands in her hair as she swiped it back over her shoulders. Sure, it was summer, but it wasn't _this_ hot outside.

No, this burn was the work of that man and his lilting offer. God, why was he so good at being _so_ distracting?

###### 

" _On the rocks, Swan?"_

" _Wha….huh?"_

" _Just asking how you'd like your margarita, love," he laughed, peeking over at her as he nearly spilled the tequila bottle. "Maybe another isn't the best idea for you."_

" _Or you! I saw that little spill, Jones!"_

" _Ah, yeah….well, good thing the company's paying," he chuckled, holding her drink out to her. "Though I suppose that doesn't excuse a party foul."_

" _Nope, it does not," she confirmed, pointing a finger at him. "It's still bad….fun….or whatever you say."_

" _The expression is 'bad form', darling," he smirked, pouring himself a shot. "But yes, I suppose it is."_

" _So what are you-" she teased, taking the shot glass right out from under his reach. "-gonna do about it?"_

_Emma quickly downed the strong alcohol filling the tiny glass, the initial burn of it moving down her throat replaced by a smoothness her first few drinks had created. Her head had tilted back as she swallowed and when she returned her dizzy stare back to him, she was surprised to see his thumb moving to swipe the remnants of her stolen shot from her lower lip. His free hand rested lightly on her arm, keeping her steady as he pulled back and sucked his wet finger back into his mouth._

" _Something we might regret tomorrow, but-" he started, his fingertips tracing her shoulder and moving slowly down her back. "-something I've wanted to do for a long time."_

_His mouth crashed into her, their lips taking a moment to fuse properly as their hands fumbled through the haze of intoxication. Emma pressed up against him and he pulled her close with a firmness that made her need for him heighten. The small moan that left her occupied lips when her back bumped into the counter seemed to encourage him and he quickly tangled his fingers in her hair while trailing kisses down her jaw to her sunkissed neckline._

" _Oh, god," she gasped, tugging lightly on his thick hair. "What….what are we….doing?"_

" _Mmmm," he mumbled, his lips vibrating as he continued down her shoulder. "Not enough, love."_

" _Yeah, I think….you're right," she choked out as his hand gripped the back of her thigh. "But-"_

" _But we're both kind of drunk," he reminded her, a hint of frustrated laughter in the comment. "So we should stop."_

" _Yeah," she breathed, a tipsy smile her only defense. "We probably should."_

###### 

The heat of that encounter had been more scorching than any summer night Emma could recall - even if it _had_ ended with her falling asleep alone once the room stopped spinning. She fell back against the bricks of the house, the large shrubs and shadowy space a safe haven away from the party where she could take a moment to entertain the memory. The way his hands had suggested a thorough exploration of her tingling body still made her shiver and the thought of his tequila tainted lips was something she'd often reminisced while indulging in the occasional margarita for the months following that night. The way his hips had felt when he pinned her up against the countertop and the way his teeth had grazed every inch of her neck wasn't something she'd forgotten. She didn't _want_ to forget it.

No, she wanted _him_. She'd spent a whole year wanting him.

"Swan! Emma….wait…."

The use of her name in several shades of simultaneousness prompted Emma to turn toward the voice and its predictable owner. He'd clearly followed her at a bit of a faster pace than she'd expected, his breath huffing audibly as he finally stopped in front of her. The sleeves of his button down were rolled up and the tan lines outlining his skin were far too tempting. His soft smile was quite knowing and he arched an eyebrow in curiosity.

Yeah, he obviously _wasn't_ going to stop doing that.

"Leaving so soon?"

"No, I'm, _uh_ ….just-" she answered, trying to look away. "-getting some air."

"An easy thing to do when you're outside, love," he grinned, scratching behind his ear. "I was hoping you might want to talk actually."

"About what you said earlier?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, a smirk toying with his dimples. "I hope that didn't come off too crass. I didn't mean to proposition you, Swan."

"Right," Emma analyzed, taking a deep breath. "So then, why _did_ you come here?"

"Well, to see you for one," he started, edging a bit closer and placing his palm against the wall near her head. "Also to ask if you've got someone to drive you home later."

"Oh," she said softly. "I don't know why you….I _mean_ , why are you asking?"

"Well, when you drink too much tonight, love," he continued, his words hot as they skimmed her ear. "I wanted to make sure you'd be taken care of."

Emma felt the images of that night long passed flash in her mind once more - the way he'd guided her through her intoxicated stumbling with his careful touch on her hip, the feel of his warm hands searching every inch of her skin, the taste of his libatious kiss as his tongue brushed repeatedly over hers. Yes, he'd certainly proven he was _perfectly_ capable of taking care of her. Now, she just had to decide if _that's_ really what she wanted.

"I see," she said slowly. "I'm not really drinking that much tonight actually."

"Good," he told her, his eyes set in that heated cobalt color. "Neither am I."

She could almost _feel_ it - the burn of alcohol in her veins, the heat of his ragged breath on her neck, the feel of being held loosely against the edge of the counter while every inch of her body betrayed her. This was wrong in every aspect of her career _and_ his. It was what originally brought her to the teasing temptation of this man. She should stop it. It would only create a whole other level of complication in her already tense workplace and that was something she sure as hell did _not_ need.

But when he looked at her like _that_ , the word 'no' seemed to vanish into the sexually charged space between them.

"So, Swan," he exhaled, the slow brush of his warm breath sending a tremble down her body. "Had enough then?"

There it was - the question that would certainly do her in. It was the only thing that had stopped them a year ago, the scent and side effects of a bit too much to drink clouding their senses. She stared at him with a lustful longing that she knew she possessed and he returned her gaze in earnest as his tongue worked in tandem with his teeth over his lower lip. His hand remained steady against the brick, his palm flat and his bicep firm as he kept her almost too close.

Well, perhaps it wasn't close _enough_.

"Just tell me, Emma," he continued, tilting his head in prompting concern. "Why did you _really_ come out here?"

"I _told_ you," she replied, trying to disguise the shaky tone behind her words. "Just needed a break."

"I can understand that, love," he nodded with that steel blue stare. "But what I can't understand is why you always seem to take those little leaves of absence the moment _we_ cross paths. Maybe you can explain that to me?"

She loved that familiar scent he always had about him - the one that made her think of a breeze across the sea and some intoxicating spice she couldn't quite place. Emma tried to brush off the way it made her feel, but the inviting quality of it was undeniable. His breath had slowed, rising and falling at a steady rate as he waited for her answer or confession.

She still wasn't sure which route she wanted to take.

"Explain _what_ , Killian?"

"Why you like running away, Swan," he returned, raising an eyebrow. "Because you seem to follow a pattern."

"Ah," Emma acknowledged, straightening her posture. "So what is this pattern? Since you seem to know _so_ much about me."

"I'm merely an observant man, Swan, but I think you like control - and when you feel like you're losing it, you run."

Of _course_ he could see through her facade, pinpointing the reason she often found his presence so stifling. That was Killian - somehow coming to know her better than she knew herself over the relatively short time they'd know one another. It _should_ have annoyed her. It should have _infuriated_ her.

Instead, it made her want him even more.

"All I'm saying is that you don't have to run from me, Swan," he continued. "I don't bite….unless you-"

"Right," she cut in, narrowing her eyes at him. "Is this where you tell me that even if I run, you'll still find me?"

"I suppose I should," he smirked with a raised eyebrow. "After all, your office isn't far from mine at all, love."

"Fair point," she replied, still rather spellbound by his very close proximity. "But something tells me this isn't work related."

"You're right, Swan," he confirmed, his eyes a hypnotically bold blue as he stared at her. "It's never been about that."

He gave her a softer gaze, one that seemed to ask permission but still simmered with determination as his fingertips grazed her shoulder and trailed down the length of her arms. Emma trembled slightly under his touch, her eyes unable to move from his as he tangled her fingers between his own. He lifted their entwined hands between them, studying the curve of her fingers with the following swipe of his thumb.

"Come on, Emma," he said quietly, squeezing her grip gently. "Tell me I'm not the only one who's been imagining this for far too long."

His touch was warm and firm as he hung on the end of his own question. She had felt these sparks before - the kiss, the teasing, the _need_. Her skin tingled with the knowledge that the desire for this man had never faded. If anything, it had multiplied tenfold.

"You're….not."

The words left her lips without thought, the reply somewhat of an admission that drew a small smile to his face. He released her hands and they dropped against the solid muscles of his chest almost too easily while he moved his skilled fingers to twist a stray piece of her hair. He moved a little more swiftly as he brushed her blonde waves off her shoulder, leaning in so his unsteady breath fell hot against her neck.

"So you've thought about it," he reveled, placing a soft kiss against her collarbone. "Often?"

"Yes," Emma divulged, trying to maintain some composure as her fingers flexed against his shirt. "I….very often."

"Hmmm," he answered, his words a dangerous whisper. "That's something I may need to hear more about, darling."

His teeth set into a slow, sultry drag that drifted from her throat down to the hem of her top and then back over to her shoulder. The fabric of the thin sweater she pulled around herself when the nighttime chill set in was quickly pulled aside and it slipped off her arm gracefully. He nipped softly as her breathing stuttered, his hands sliding to her waist suggestively. His thumbs drew little circles against her hips and he toyed with the denim of her frayed summer shorts - the ones leaving little to the imagination that she definitely hadn't chosen with him in mind.

It didn't take much - only those few fleeting seconds and fiery touches - for Emma to decide that testing the boundaries between them was long overdue. She wanted this. She'd _dreamt_ of it.

"I like these, Swan," he breathed, leaving kisses on her neck as his thumb flicked teasingly at the button just above the zipper. "You certainly know how to taunt a man."

"Hmmm, well," she groaned, her hips moving forward as she gripped the collar of his flannel. "I kind of like this."

"Ah, good to know," he grinned, allowing his hands to tug a little harder on her waistline. "But if you aren't _completely_ fond of it, perhaps you should remove it."

She tried not to smile at that, her hands losing control as she worked in a hurried manner to undo the stubborn buttons. He waited with heavy breath until she reached the last one before moving his hands to cup her jaw roughly. Emma let her eyes close instantly as his lips fused to hers, the smooth feel of his kiss outweighing every version of her imagination. His tongue found hers with a low moan and her fingers ran down his chest, her nails digging in gently as she tested the coarse hair the shirt had been covering.

God, she was _totally_ losing it now.

"Emma - _love_ ," he exhaled, his lips hovering over hers as his shirt hung open. "We should stop-"

"Oh," she gasped with widening eyes. "Yeah, we can't-"

"Swan, no…. _no_ , that's not what I meant," he said quickly, kissing away the uncertainty he'd created. "I just mean….so we don't get caught. Probably wouldn't be very professional of us."

"Yeah, probably….not," she nodded with a shiver. "But we-"

"Here, love," he coaxed, a quick glance over his shoulder before he placed his hands behind her thighs to lift her. "Legs around me."

She complied almost embarrassingly fast as her ankles crossed and she held tight to him. He moved with purpose, sneaking kisses between strides as the hard length behind his own denim rubbed against her. Temptation had never felt quite like the strong grip and tantalizing touch that was Killian Jones, but as it surrounded her, she wanted nothing more than to drown in it and him. Yes, she wanted _him_ \- her direct superior from work with the larger, nicer, much more spacious office just across from hers.

" _Killian_ ," she nearly choked out, her legs keeping her tight against him. "Where….where are we going?"

"Here, darling," he answered as his fingers tangled in her hair and he rounded the corner of a small building to their right. "I can't wait - not anymore. But you….can't leave yet."

"So you want…. _here?"_

"Aye, love," he nodded, lowering her to the ground. "Here _first_ ….then everywhere….later."

"Hmmm," she breathed. "Everywhere…. _oh_ ….like where?"

"Any place you'll allow," he assured her, kissing her with relentless fervor. "Wrapped up in my bed, in the pool behind this fence….the shower perhaps."

"Oh, _yes_ ," she moaned. "Tell me where else."

"At work, love - all over the office," he told her as his mouth sucked carefully on her neck. "Completely bare and sprawled on my desk or in that leather chair by the window where you can ride me. Bloody _hell_ , Emma….I just….god, I want you so much."

"Me too, Killian," she said with gritted teeth. "Show me. God, please show me you want me."

He kissed her once more, his teeth caressing her lower lip as she gasped and let her head press harder against the wood exterior of the pool house they'd located. The fence keeping the opposite side of them concealed as she let him yank her tank top over her head and his mouth fell to her breasts. Feeling her back arch, Emma tried to focus on the skilled tongue of this man she'd been wanting for months rather than the barely distant sound of the party. His lips were soft and persistent, the smooth press of them making her skin shiver as he moved the strap of the pale pink lace she'd selected down her shoulder.

"You are _stunning_ , Emma," he whispered, following the slow slide of the garment down her arm with tender kisses and a few pulls of his teeth. "Absolutely beautiful."

"Killian - _please_ ," she begged, her fingers digging tensely into his dark scalp. "I want more…."

"I know, love," he nodded as his tongue traced a path down her torso until he dropped to his knees. "I do too."

His hands worked fast, tugging hard at the zipper on her shorts as the well worn and quite revealing denim slipped down her legs. She tried not to stumble over it, a task that was beyond difficult as Killian's fingers skimmed the little details of the lace she wore underneath. He grinned deviously and placed a row of light kisses along her waist before taking hold of the material with his teeth

"Oh, dear _god_ -"

He groaned at her gasping reaction, the firm hold of his hands a little tighter on the back of her legs as he moved at a torturous pace. He nipped softly at her inner thighs, the teasing bites soothed by the continuous exploration of his tongue. Emma knew what a mess she must have looked as she writhed against him, her hands clenching his thick dark hair as he drove her into oblivion, but the feel of his mouth against her aching flesh was worth looking unprofessional for.

Completely, _totally_ , irresistibly unprofessional.

"Killian, you…. _have_ to…."

Emma knew her body was betraying her as she pulled on his shirt collar, her manic touch ruffling it as his mouth continued to move. She let out a tormented moan when he sucked softly and she bit down hard on her bottom lip to hold in the wanting sound she knew he'd keep pulling from her. The curve of his sultry smirk against her hipbone quickly coaxed her eyes downward as he drew another long lick up her center.

"Oh, _Swan_ ," he breathed as he pulled back, his fingers teasing her before he glanced up to match her aroused stare. "Was it….like _this?_ You imagined us like….this?"

"Yes," she admitted, her breath panting as her hips pushed up toward his mouth. "So…. _many_ times…."

His response was a low growl, one that left his throat in a hurried manner as he pushed several fingers inside her just in time to feel her unravel. Emma let her head fall back against the side of the building as her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip to silence the sated scream tingling on her tongue. His mouth continued its soothing effort as she found stability, her fingers still carted forcefully in his grown out hair when he finally moved back and rose to his feet.

"Hmmm," he mumbled, his hands resting on opposite sides of her head as he analyzed her bare collarbone. "Well…."

Whatever he'd been about to say trailed off into the night hair as his index finger skimmed the curve of her breast, effectively causing the breath she'd finally caught to stutter in her throat. He smiled at her reaction and she watched that cobalt fire simmer in his very attentive stare.

 _Two can play this game_ , she thought as she studied his manner of watching her.

"Yeah," she breathed, letting her hand drag down his open flannel shirt to the prominent bulge of his jeans. "Well."

He narrowed his seductive eyes, shaking his head lightly as he seemed to know exactly what she was doing. Emma let her fingers take the bold place of her voice as she undid the button on his jeans and pushed his shirt off his shoulders. She gave him a slightly disapproving glare upon recognizing the second one he was wearing beneath the plaid and he reached down to its hem, tugging it over his head with an amused chuckle. The sound of his sunglasses hitting the concrete under their feet was ignored as her hands explored his exposed chest, her fingernails scratching gently as they moved down his hair lined torso. He gasped softly when she reached to pull on the zipper of his jeans and then once more when she moved her fingers in a caressing pattern.

" _Teasing_ , Swan," he said, his words heavy as he pressed the hard length still covered by denim against her hand. "Bad form."

"Perhaps," she returned, massaging him more firmly. "So what're you going to do about it?"

He grinned at her question, his hair a total mess and his lips smoothly swollen as he gave her that heated glare - the one that was liable to ruin her. Emma let her weak grip pull on his jeans, her attempt yanking them down far enough that the denim was barely out of the way. His mouth landed back on hers as they quickly found the rhythm of an escalating kiss again. Killian began a slow motion of grinding his hips into hers, the soft cotton of his boxer briefs brushing her bare core as she moaned into his mouth.

"Oh - _Emma_ ," he breathed, smiling into the kiss as she continued to rub his covered length. "Like this? You're sure?"

"Yes," she grinned in return, biting gently on his bottom lip. "How else?"

"Well, naked would be preferred," he exhaled as he held her jaw steady. "Perhaps in a more private location."

"But I-" Emma replied, her fingers dipping beneath the cotton to stroke him. "-have to stay here."

"I….know," he grunted, rutting lightly against her tender grip. "So right here will have to suffice….for _now_."

"Fair enough," she gasped as her hand fell away and his solid length brushed against the damp space between her legs. "Killian, _please_ …."

"I know," he nodded, pushing up into her with one smooth thrust. "No more waiting."

Emma had to bite back the needy sound trying to escape her mouth as he gripped her tight, her back sliding up and down the sleek wooden siding of the pool house. He groaned a little louder than either of them expected and she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling firmly as he moved at a tortuous pace. Emma let her lips fall back into a heated battle with his as he held her against him and her center began to grind down on him as he continued to push upward and pull back.

"Killian - god, _yes_ ," she whispered, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. " _Harder_. I need more."

"Yes, love," he breathed, his words jagged and frenzied. "Want you so much."

"Don't stop - _oh_ ….please," Emma begged as her hips rotated rhythmically. " _I'm_ ….I'm almost there."

" _Come_ , darling," he coaxed, thrusting a little harder as he held her steady. "I want to watch you."

The moment his thickly accented words met her ears, Emma knew she wouldn't be able to deny his request. Her voice turned into a soft series of escalating moans and sounds that seemed to affect him intensely and he pulled her close against him, his muscles spasming at she came around him with a final cry. She was drowning in pleasure, riding the aftershocks of the ecstasy he'd led her into when he switched their positions with a deep breath. His back landed hard against the wooden wall and he slid down against it, carrying them to the ground so she landed in his lap. His arms were tight around her as he appeared not to trust his legs or their ability to keep him upright when he finally met his release. His feet planted on the concrete as she rode him, her body undulating on top of him at a relentless rate.

"God, _Emma_ ," he pleaded in that feral tone. "More….I'm _so_ close, love."

She nodded as he pulled her down for a deep kiss, his hips driving up into her once more as he let go. Emma whimpered quietly into his mouth as he pulsed between her legs, the feel of him releasing enough to push her over the edge once more. They moved automatically for a moment, each of them riding out the remaining seconds of passion as they continued to melt into the scorching kiss. He finally pulled back after a few more minutes, his head dropping back against the wall as her forehead fell forward against his.

"Bloody hell."

The phrase made her smile weakly even though she'd heard it a million times, usually in the form of a curse from across the hallway. To hear the accented words leave his lips in this sense of exhausted exasperation was quite different - but a very _good_ sort of different, she hoped.

"Swan?"

"Hmmm?"

"Can I-" he started, shifting so she'd lean back to catch his gaze. "-ask you a question?"

Emma gave him a questionable look, one that was laced with slight insecurity and doubt. He blinked lazily as she tried to silently guess which path this conversation might take. The idea of regret had seemed so foreign only moments earlier that confronting it now was enough to make her heart sink. She'd only begun to ponder the concept when his eyes lightened and the corner of his mouth lifted in a quick smirk.

"I guess I'm wondering if this particular position we're in might transfer to a documented grievance," he said cleverly, toying with a stray piece of her wavy hair. "Just wanted to see if I need to pencil some time to fill out paperwork into my schedule tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah - _that_ ," she almost laughed, her tense body instantly relaxing at his teasing words and wandering touch. "Well, I suppose I could let this one slide."

" _Very_ understanding of you, love," he replied, pressing a pausing kiss against her neck. "But what if it's not a one time thing?"

"Hmmm," Emma smiled. "Then I suppose you'll be dealt with accordingly."

"Ah, company policy then?"

"Well," she taunted, leaning back in to kiss him. "Something like that."

He smiled that charming, typical, handsome Killian Jones smile - the one that made her heartbeat quicken - and his hand held her cheek tenderly as they tumbled back into several tempting kisses. His lips moved so flawlessly against hers as his hands settled on her hips, his thumbs stroking her abdomen while his tongue found hers. Emma let herself dissolve into the moment she'd been fantasizing about for far too long while realizing even without overindulging in whatever alcohol they kept at the party, there was no way she could avoid being intoxicated by this man and the things he could do to her.

"Mmmm," she sighed, her voice quiet against his shoulder when she finally pulled away. "I don't want to go back."

"Then don't," he smirked as his hands traced her spine and he wriggled his hips beneath her. "Let's just stay here."

"Oh and do what? Play hide-and-seek from our co-workers?"

"Well, it appears that your list of ideas is _much_ less scandalous than mine," he winked, his thumb teasing the dimple on her cheek. "But I was going to say we could do a _little_ trespassing. I'm fairly sure that the pool gate over there is unlocked."

"You're certainly in the business of breaking rules tonight, Jones," she replied with a sly smile. "I do need to go help clean up though."

"I figured as much," he sighed, feigning disappointment as he tilted his head sideways in thought. "But if I come assist you, _perhaps_ you might change your mind about a swim afterward?"

"Hmmm - _maybe_ ," she decided. "Although if we're going to keep being unethical, we _should_ call it skinny dipping."

"I like where your mind is at, love," he grinned, chasing her lips with his own. "I suppose we should get back to work so we can come back to play."

"I guess so," she laughed as her eyebrow arched. "Eager to fill out more paperwork, are you?"

"Oh, love," he answered, his fingertips dancing between her shoulder blades. "It's unlikely there are enough forms in your office to document all of the indiscretions I've been pondering."

"Mmmm," she mused, shivering at his teasing touch before kissing him again. " _Try_ me, Jones."

"Believe me, Swan," he responded with a mischievous smirk. "I'm planning on it."


	11. By The Light Of The Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little werewolf smut - rated M for sure!

The woods were quiet as she walked, something that didn't really surprise her given the late hour and dwindling temperature outside. The hazy fog weaving in and out of the trees would have seemed rather eerie if she slowed down enough to think about it, but the way her breath hung in the cool air reminded her to keep moving. The light from the nearly full moon was generous and the way it illuminated her path wasn't something Emma was about to take for granted.

After all, she knew what she was getting into when she left the house.

Her feet trudged over the soft ground, her boots snapping the occasional twig as she moved through the woods toward the place they'd first met this way. She knew it probably wasn't right to sneak around like this, but for now, they didn't have another choice. Her eyes lifted toward the dark sky as she absorbed the soft glow of the lunar light once more, her feet pausing as she heard a familiar distance noise - the longing, low cry of a wolf. The sound brought a brief smile to her lips as she glanced back over her shoulder in the direction it had come from.

He couldn't be _too_ far away.

Emma navigated the rocky ledge carefully, her feet clinging to the crevices as she moved down along the hidden hillside. Her eyes darted across the tree lined ground in search of him until she heard a soft rustling from the bushes behind her. She froze in place, hopeful that it was the man she was looking for and trying not to imagine who or _what_ else it might be instead.

"A bit late to be wandering the woods."

The words were smooth, drawing a shiver across her skin and a curve to her mouth the moment she heard them. That accent had done so many wicked things to her that it was difficult to find a coherent response without remembering every little use of his voice - the charming taunts he'd offer when his fingertips traced her skin, the jagged breaths he took between mumbled curses and kisses, the deep growl that vibrated in his throat when his hands gripped her just a little tighter. There was something about the way he spoke that she just couldn't get enough of.

"Yet here you are," he continued, his presence suddenly at her back as his breath skimmed her ear. "A bit _reckless_ tonight I see."

"Took you long enough," she replied, her own tone soft and teasing as she turned to face him. "I was starting to think you might not be here."

"I could say the same to you, darling," he quipped as his hand stroked her jaw. "You've kept me waiting quite a long time."

His eyes were bluer than she recalled, the deep cobalt color usually bright for how dark the space around them was. His hair had grown out quite a bit since she's met him, the pitch black tufts unruly and flipping out against his neck. He was wearing that typical black shirt but with most of the buttons undone - the confirmation that he'd just barely shifted back into his natural form post midnight howl. His open collar left the dark hair of his chest on perfect display as the shadows framed the muscular shape of his body. He was always so easy to admire - every masculine, chiseled, feral _inch_ of him.

"You just said I shouldn't be out here alone and now you're telling me I didn't get here quick enough," she returned playfully. "Maybe you need some time to make up your mind?"

His hands pressed firmly against her lower back as he hauled her body to his, their lips fusing hard and fast as he breathed her in like the night air. His feet shuffled along the leafy ground in a pattern that coaxed hers backward. Her shoulders felt the soft scrape of tree bark after only a few steps and he grinned against her mouth, his nose brushing hers. The alpha in him had a way with getting her to take physical direction almost _too_ easily.

"I've had _hours_ to ponder what I want, Swan," he told her, his voice thick and heavy as his teeth scraped lightly along her throat. "But have you?"

Her fingers dug lightly into his scalp as he ravished her neckline, his bite firm and his tongue soothing as he marked her skin. Emma couldn't help the small moan that fell from her lips as her hands landed on his belt. He reacted with that low growl that set her entire body ablaze as his touch trailed down the length of her spine, pausing only once he reached the hem of her sweater. He toyed with her a moment, his fingertips dragging back and forth along the bare flesh just beneath the fabric as she fumbled with his buckle.

" _Killian_ …."

He laughed quietly, his teeth tugging lightly on her earlobe before he lifted the material over her head and tossed it toward their feet. There was something sexy and wild about the way he looked at her half naked form and Emma let her eyes lock fiercely onto his as he stared. The clatter of his belt landing on the ground seemed to break the thickening tension as his kiss took hold of her again, his tongue seeking hers as her arms wrapped around his neck. They set swiftly into a persistent pattern of forceful lips and needy hands as he pinned her against the tree with a hard grind of his hips. Her fingernails dug a bit deeper as they explored the expanse of his chest that his nearly open shirt left visible and a soft groan from him told Emma she might be gaining some control back.

Well, at least the small sliver she still maintained entirely. Since meeting him, she'd been left with _very_ little.

"If anyone should be tired of waiting, it's me," she teased, her hands tugged at his zipper of his denim. "I thought _you_ were going to come find me."

His lips pressed back against hers, his kiss anxious but almost apologetic that she'd had to wander so far past the dark trees at night. She knew it was for the best - as hazardous as the forest might be after sunset, they couldn't risk getting caught when the things they did to one another were so explicitly deviant. The danger of someone seeing them definitely wasn't looming _just_ because he was a werewolf.

"Are you saying you'd like-" he asked, his mouth hot and heaving against her neck. "-to be _hunted?"_

The edge in his voice sent shivers across Emma's skin as she tilted her head back, his teeth dragging lightly from her jaw to her collarbone. Her reply was lost somewhere in the darkness around them as she gripped his shirt collar with a pleading moan. The way he bit down gently on her bare shoulder was sure to leave a mark, but she couldn't bring herself to care as his tongue calmed the space around the possessive indents sunken into her skin.

"Tell me, Emma," he said, his tone low and rasping. "Is that why you've come here? To be pursued by a wolf?"

His hands were strong as he tore her jeans down her legs at record speed, his palms tracing the soft skin of her thighs with a quick growl of approval. His nails were slightly sharp as they tickled her back, following a path from her hips to her shoulder blades before he pushed his hard length against her core. His hands toyed with the lacy fabric still covering that part of her as her breath trembled under his teasing touch.

"To be-" he continued, his words a heated whisper. "-tracked?"

His fingers pulled hard on the material, his action almost wild as he ripped the sparsely remaining clothing from her body. Emma felt like she was on fire as his hand moved lower to graze against the growing wetness between her legs. He smirked when he felt it, the air leaving his lungs vibrating against her neck while his lips outlined the curve of her ear.

"Is that what you want, love?"

"Yes," she gasped, pulling forcefully on his shirt so the buttons gave way and fell to a scattered demise on the ground. "I want it all."

"Greedy thing," he mused, nipping at her neckline. "You are mine, Emma. _Only_ mine."

She nodded frantically as he licked and sucked a dark mark at the base of her throat. Her hands were quickly woven through his untamed hair for leverage while he lowered his mouth, working a path of bitemarks and erotic kisses down her chest. His lips were skilled and coaxing as he worshipped her flushed skin like no man ever had before. It should have scared her that he was so aggressive and needy when he wanted her. When he explored her like this, it was hard to deny that he was indeed part beast.

It might have frightened her to know that he was a werewolf if she wasn't so damn turned on by every _other_ detail about him.

He rose back to his feet fast as Emma finally pushed his shirt off his shoulders and his deft hands shoved down the jeans still weakly hanging on his trim waist. She reached out to palm him and he exhaled hard when her fingertips brushed his naked torso. Her firm grip wrapped around him as his breath heaved and impatience finally set in, prompting him to rut against her just hard enough to tease.

"You are _stunning_ , lass," he drawled, his rugged accent thick as it met her ear. "Bewitching in every sense of the word."

His hold was firm on her waist, his thumbs pressing hard on her hipbones as he rubbed his solid length along her bare center. The deliberate friction he created as his hands kept her steady was enough to make her tremble and his fingernails scratched the back of her thighs a little harder when she let out a soft moan. Emma felt the air catch in her throat as he moved, the motion not quite enough as he smiled against her lips. He knew _exactly_ what this was doing to her. _Bastard_ , she thought as she bit her lip.

"I think we both know what you want, darling," he continued, his biceps flexing as he lifted her to hover between his muscular body and the trunk of the tree. "But I love hearing you say it."

Emma let her wet core grind against him as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he let out a low groan. Her arms wrapped loosely around his neck as he zeroed in on her with that icy blue glare - the hypnotic one that was possessive and protective all at once. She knew what he wanted to hear.

"Claim me, Killian," she whispered, her body writhing above him. " _Please_."

"That's more like it, love," he growled, lifting a frenzied hand to tug on the clasp holding the remaining lace around her chest. "Now let me hear you."

He surged upward with a strong thrust of his hips, entering her fast as she let out a soft cry. His nails dug deeper into her legs as he kept her in place and the dry bark of the tree scraped against her shoulder blades. His pace was rushed and hard as he pounded into her with a passion that was completely predatory. Emma wasn't sure when she'd become so okay with being dominated in such a way, but as his teeth bit teasingly along her collarbone, her mind filled with a hazy pleasure she didn't want to question.

" _Killian_ ," Emma pleaded, her skin hot under his torturous touch. "Harder…. _please_ …."

He gave a particularly rough shove of his hips, making her whimper in his ear as she held tight to his shoulders. She knew what the sound of her begging would do to him and he moved fiercely, swallowing her desperate cries with a scorching kiss.

"Yes - _god_ ….yes," she stammered, her lips slamming back into his. "Like that…. _just_ like _that_."

"Bloody hell, lass," he groaned as he jerked up once more. "So good."

Emma clutched him tightly, every single one of her nerves firing as he continued to move. She felt herself fading and nearly falling as his lips lingered on hers. The air leaving his lungs was ragged and the lazy cobalt blue of his eyes seemed to burn right through her.

" _Emma_ ," he grunted, his legs still strong beneath her as he kissed her bare shoulder. "Are you-"

"Yes," she answered, cutting off his question with a sharp exhale. "I…. _let_ me-"

"Now, love," he told her, his damp hair brushing her cheek as his voice vibrated against her skin. " _Come_ …."

Her body unraveled instantly, the white hot passion between them sending her over the edge as she collapsed against him. His release followed fast as he pulled her tight against him before falling carefully so his back was flat on the dirt. Her body followed him as his hands held her thighs, giving her a stable spot to sit on his torso as she caught her breath. She still hadn't regained it by the time he lifted back up, cupping her jaw and kissing her gently. There was something raw and animalistic about the way he could make her his so effortlessly, but when his lips were tender like this, it was easy to see the man behind the wolf.

"So you found me," he smirked, letting her forehead rest on his while his arms wrapped around her. "Remarkable tracking skills, Swan."

"Don't act _so_ surprised," she mumbled. "Told you I would."

"If I'm surprised, it's in a _very_ pleasant way," he laughed. "I suppose I should have known better when you told me you were a bounty hunter. Though to be fair, we were on our third or fourth shot of whiskey that night so little of what you were saying was believable."

"I'm just good at finding people," she mused as she tugged teasingly on his scalp. "Though you did give proper incentive I guess."

"Remind me not to question your acuity again, darling," he grinned as he rubbed her arms.

"Cold?"

"A little I guess," she nodded. "It's late."

"Aye," he agreed, burying his nose in her hair. "Come back to my cabin with me. I'll get you all warmed up."

The soft light of the moon had been clouded by the settling fog, but not enough for the shadows to tame the wild blue in his permissive gaze. He looked wrecked with that messy dark hair and his red lips but the sweetest sort of happy. When he gave her those quite literal puppy dog eyes, it was difficult to think of doing anything except following him.

"Okay," she conceded, slightly nervous about his request. "You're sure you want a….visitor?"

"Of course," he confirmed, raising his eyebrow playfully. "After all, you _really_ shouldn't be out in the woods alone at night, love."

"Yeah," she sighed with a final kiss. "So I've been told."


	12. That Type Of Pirate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little typewriter smut (because that's a thing) for my lovely friend jscoutfinch as a happy belated birthday gift! Enjoy!

Emma wasn't exactly sure how long she'd been standing in the entryway by the time he actually spotted her. She knew she'd been staring a while - something she was guilty of more often than not when it came to this man - but with a view like this one, it wasn't _exactly_ easy to tear her eyes away.

It had been about a week since she'd initially figured that out, but somehow here she was again - trapped in the act of watching him with _zero_ shame.

She had been at the station the day this whole thing started. It hadn't taken her long after they finally moved into the new house together to learn that a bored Killian quickly became a _curious_ Killian - although this realization did not occur until _after_ he'd found a hidden romance novel Ruby had demanded she borrow once, a collection of probably _one_ too many Disney princess movies, and the bag containing that skimpy black lingerie that she would now definitely _not_ be surprising him with. It had been difficult to resist kissing that smug smirk off his face after that last one, but she'd managed it while conjuring up a plan for how the _hell_ she could keep him occupied while she kept Storybrooke under control.

Suggesting that he help Henry retrieve and unpack the remaining boxes still waiting at the loft the following day had been her grand idea, but she never imagined that task would end with him discovering an old vintage typewriter - one that Mary Margaret _insisted_ he could keep.

If Emma knew this acquired antique would end being so…. _personally_ distracting - well, she would have found a time portal to send it back to its proper decade.

It had been kind of quirky and almost adorable at first - how he'd studied the inner workings of the ancient machine, the way asked Henry's help with navigating the internet in search of a new ribbon, how proud he'd been when he'd finally gotten it functioning properly again. It had quickly found a place in the room she'd let him convert to a rather nautically themed study and she'd caught sight of it sitting safely on the refurbished desk he'd stationed near the window he decided had the best view of the distant docks.

She'd rolled her eyes at his claim, but now as she leaned against the wood door frame to his makeshift office, Emma suddenly had a great deal of interest in _appealing_ scenery.

She hadn't meant to get so caught up in observing him. After all, it was still the middle of the workday and she was only stopping by the house to pick up David's extra set of keys since he'd managed to leave his god knows where. She'd told him it would only take a few minutes and it would…. _well_ , until she heard that familiar tapping sound and allowed it to lead her to her current place of spying.

_Click-click-click-clack._

God, _why_ did watching his fingers tap those fragile keys make her mind wander like this?

"Hey," he smiled suddenly, his attention shifting toward her with surprise. "I didn't know you were coming home this early, love."

Emma blinked rapidly, trying to listen to his words while ignoring the sight of his freshly damp hair and the way the cuffs of his new jeans trailed down to his bare feet under the desk. She was still thanking some higher power for his willingness to accept modern clothing and she noticed that the blue flannel he'd selected today was a new one she hadn't yet seen. His sleeves were rolled up carefully, the fabric folding over itself in a way that was very Killian while the top two buttons of the shirt had been left undone. Emma couldn't find it in herself to complain as she noticed the dark hair on his chest hiding just beneath his collar. He was wearing that startled and still handsome smirk as he set down the unexplained pencil he'd been stowing behind his ear. The chair swiveled to face her and Emma placed her hand on her hip, her insistent curiosity now taking over as she watched him in this now strangely natural environment.

"I'm not….I mean I'm not staying - just stopping by to grab something," she stammered, tilting her head as he tweaked the placement of the paper. "Looks like you've got your new little project up and running though."

He offered her an amused grin, pairing it with a slight nod. His fingertip ran carefully along one of the keys. _Tap_. She watched his careful stare as he analyzed the movement of the machine, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip as he worked. _Tap-tap_. Emma felt her breath hitch slightly, her teeth finding her lower lip as he hit a few more sequenced letters. _Tap-tap._

Emma felt her stomach flutter with a teasing burn. The subtle smirk and diligent eyes he displayed in moments like this were almost too much. _Almost_.

"It's certainly an interesting contraption," he shrugged, giving her that side smile. "Quite a bit different than that device Henry has."

"Well, yeah - he has a laptop," Emma laughed with a raised eyebrow. "A little more modern than what you've got there."

"Ah, so you're saying there's something less appealing about-" he quipped, rocking slightly in his seat. "-a _classic?"_

 _There_ it was - that taunting innuendo she knew she'd eventually encounter in a conversation like this one. This man was and always had been a flirt, even though he hardly needed to charm her after everything their tested relationship had been through. No, Killian Jones had won her heart as promised _quite_ some time ago - but that didn't mean he didn't like double checking that fact with a little prodding.

" _Very_ funny," Emma returned, giving him a playful glare as she wandered closer. "I'm just suggesting that an update isn't _always_ a bad thing, Jones."

He grinned at that as she landed at his side, her hand resting on his shoulder as she bent to kiss him. His lips were smooth and accepting as his hand held her jaw, guiding her through the slow movement they'd practiced to perfection. She pulled back after a moment, knowing full well where the perceptive pattern of his mouth could lead if she didn't. The blue in his gaze was all too knowing and he gave her a quick final peck before she could put too much space between them. Her eyes lingered on the redness of his lips and the hazy passion she'd felt in his kiss while she decided that maybe she had a _few_ minutes to spare before heading back to the station.

It couldn't hurt to indulge him just a _little_ bit.

"So," she nodded toward the typewriter, leaning back against the desk to face him in inquiry. "How does this thing work anyway?"

He gave her another smile - the mischievious one that beamed with a hint of victory while he tapped his fingers on the wooden surface of the desk. Emma tried not to roll her eyes at his reaction, fully aware that she should be trying to avoid encouraging any more of his attempts to outwit the modern world. Well, it was a little _less_ than modern in this case, but his curiosity and subsequent need to understand certainly hadn't wavered.

"Well, it's simple mechanics I suppose," he explained, taking her hand and tugging her a bit closer. "Easier to show than tell though, love."

"Hmmm, you _always_ say that," she replied while letting him pull her backward into his lap. "But go ahead - I'm listening."

"Well, each key is part of a lever," he started, nipping lightly at her ear before kissing her cheek. "You press a key and the lever attached to it swings the type hammer toward the paper. Then just before the letter hits the paper, the ink threads between and _bam_ \- perfectly scripted text."

His arms caged her sides as he reached forward, tapping the letters to illustrate his point. His chest was warm against her back as she watched his fingertips navigate the keyboard to produce two words he'd once said to her in greeting - okay, _more_ than just once.

_**Hey beautiful.** _

"I see," Emma smiled, glancing sideways at him. "Seems easy enough."

"Aye," he agreed, letting his fingertips seek out his next letters and pressing them firmly. "When you release the key, a spring sends the type hammer back to its original position."

She bit her lip to avoid the charmed laughter threatening to slip from her mouth as her eyes followed the rhythm of the keys until he'd spelled out his next sentence. He'd _definitely_ been practicing.

_**As you wish.** _

"Then, in the meantime," he continued, typing a little faster now. "This little roller - called a carriage actually - moves the paper _just_ a bit after each letter is typed. It continues to slide until it reaches the end of the page and then…."

The following _ding_ made Emma's pulse jump as he hit the return button and the paper moved upward. Her eyes fell back to the words he'd just created and she couldn't help the way her body seemed to vibrate as she read his little taunt.

_**I love a challenge.** _

"Hmmm," she pondered, moving to her feet and turning to face him. "Is that so?"

"Perhaps," he nodded as he tilted his head in consideration. "You look like you might be inclined to give me one."

"Well," Emma sighed, removing her jacket and tossing it aside. "I suppose I _could_ come up with something."

He smirked at her response, standing and reaching for her lips with his own as her fingers threaded deep in his hair. The soft groan he gave way to when she tugged lightly was encouragement to Emma's ears and she felt the heat rise across her skin when he pinned her with his hips, her waist set hard against the edge of the desk.

"I've missed you," he breathed, one hand at her cheek and the other pressing into her lower back. "Far too much."

"I haven't been gone-" she replied as her fingers toyed with the button of his jeans. " _-that_ long."

"Long enough though," he told her, the dark scruff on his jaw scraping softly against her collarbone as he ravished her neck. "If it was up to me, you wouldn't leave at all."

"But if I was always here," she exhaled with a choked breath, her hands buried in his dark scalp. "You wouldn't get to have all this extra time for your new hobby."

He sucked a light mark into her skin, his teeth tracing her throat lightly as he worked at the hem of her shirt. Emma leaned back as he tugged it over her head and she started that same endeavor with his, clumsily pulling at the buttons as she lifted herself onto the small, unoccupied space of the desk. Her fingers fumbled with the collar before she slide it slowly off his shoulders and watched it land in the growing heap of clothes on the floor. The way his stare focused heatedly on her lips and the wanting breath parting them was enough to set Emma into a fiery frenzy.

"Ah," he questioned after a moment, running his hand down the space between her breasts to the her abdomen. "Because you'd be keeping me busy in _other_ ways?"

"Likely so," she confirmed as he slid her pants to the ground. "Which I'm _sure_ you'd hate."

"On the contrary, Swan," he disputed as his fingertips removed the last pieces of lacy fabric concealing her. "You are by _far_ my favorite hobby."

She barely had time to process his retort before his mouth was back on hers, his tongue grazing hers with a fervor that promised to ruin her. He'd always been so _good_ at that - the way he could kiss the life out of her and leave her mind in hazy blur. Her fingernails traced the expanse of his chest with a slight drag, a motion that made him growl a low sound as his hands tangled in her long hair.

"Killian," she said softly, her lips still hovering on his. " _Please_..."

His palm gripped her thigh instantly, parting her legs just enough as his hands moved along her skin. His thumbs pressed hard on her hipbones as he resumed their kiss and he pulled her a little closer, allowing his firm touch to drop down to where she wanted him most. Emma felt her body gravitate toward his teasing fingertips, a pleading moan leaving her without thought.

"Mmmm," he hummed, his teeth taunting her bottom lip. "Like this?"

Her hands moved purposefully toward to his jeans with an anxious nod, her grip yanking them down to expose his all black boxer briefs. Emma shivered under his ministrations, her hips flexing toward his as she stroked his hard length through the cotton material. His body jerked as his free hand attempted to clutch the desk's edge and his movement shook the piece of furniture, causing the newly restored typewriter to slide and shake. Emma reached for it, securing the heavy device as he let his body grind against hers.

" _Emma_ …."

"I know," she acknowledged, letting a breathy laugh surround her words. "This probably isn't the best place."

"Aye," he agreed as he lifted her, taking the two steps back and falling back onto the chair. "But this spot seems like it could work."

She didn't have time to reply or even approve before he slid inside with a hard thrust. He swallowed her gasp with a desperate kiss, his lips caressing hers tenderly as he began to move. He pushed deep as her body relaxed, her legs draping loosely over his thighs as his hands pressed hard against her back.

"God, love," he breathed, his mouth hot against her jaw. "You feel _so_ good."

She set carefully into motion, rocking back and forth as he matched her effort with his fingers gripping her thighs. Emma let her head drop back with a curse when he moved his thumb back to her center, stroking and rubbing small circles as she writhed on top of him. The air leaving his lungs was ragged as his hips rolled, his body rising up to meet hers as he groaned into the heated space between them.

"Oh…. _yes_ \- Killian, _please_ ," she begged, thrusting her fingers into his messy scalp. "Don't stop."

"Never," he promised, shoving upward a little harder. "So beautiful….you're so _wet_ , love."

"Killian…. _oh_ ," she cried as she pulled at his dark hair. "I need you."

"You have me," he returned, his accent slurred as he pressed kisses along her collarbone. " _Come_ , Emma. I want you to come."

Her body gave way to his heated demand, the world around her a complete fog as she fell over the edge into euphoria. His speed grew frantic as he plunged deeper, his hips stuttering after a moment as he released inside of her. Emma let herself collapse against his chest as she tried to catch her breath. She felt him panting beneath her as he buried his face in her hair, his body shaking slightly as he came back to reality. It was somewhat quiet for a few seconds as they both regained some sense of being and it suddenly became a little more tempting to stay in his hold, letting him draw nonsense on her bare skin as his fingertips outlined the length of her spine.

"I don't want to go back to work."

"Well then don't," he laughed, pulling back to kiss her with a whisper. " _Stay_."

"David's already going to kill me," she smiled, ruffling his disheveled hair. "I was supposed to just 'run home really fast and get the extra keys'."

"Ah," he smirked. "Well, I don't like to pride myself on being 'fast'."

"Believe me - I _know_ ," she mumbled, leaning into his lips. "But I guess if he asks, I can always blame the prehistoric pirate I have at home."

"Well, lucky for _me-_ " he replied, his fingers reaching for the desk. "-I can _easily_ type an apology note."

Emma giggled against his neck as he pulled her close, moving the chair toward the typewriter. He tapped several keys quickly, listening for the _ding_ that came at the end of the line before turning his eyes back to her as she read his little quip.

_**I think we make quite the team.** _

He gave her that goofy grin - that one he tended to offer up in sated moments like this. His eyes were that intense sea blue and Emma took a moment to wonder how she ever thought she might avoid falling for this ridiculously wonderful man. She let him lay a gentle kiss on her forehead before she stretched over to the vintage keyboard to type her own message - the one she knew he loved hearing and in this case _hopefully_ reading.

_**I love you.** _

"Mmmm," he sighed, as her forehead fell against his. "I love you too, Swan."


	13. Wild Like The Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some meteorologist!Killian in spirit of Hurricane Colin and the idea of this man in the rain. This one's rated M for a reason!

"Uh, hel- _lo_ ," Ruby's interrupting tone started. "Earth to Emma…."

Oh, _dammit_. The bright lights overhead paired with the suddenly demanding voice of the lead camerawoman pulled Emma's attention back to reality a little slower than she'd hoped. The faint blush covering her cheeks was evidence of her delayed embarrassment and she shook her head softly, trying to redirect her thoughts while giving nothing away.

 _Just a quick report_ , she reminded herself. Then she could get the hell out of there before the afternoon broadcast team rolled in. She had to be gone by then.

"Oh, sorry - uh," she sighed, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she looked down at the papers in front of her. "Isn't all of this on the teleprompter?"

"Well, yeah - just thought you'd want to check it out before we start filming," Ruby explained, tilting her head in analysis. "Are you okay, Em? You're acting….strange."

She'd been trying to focus on the notes in her hand. It wasn't anything big - just a little breaking news about a local power outage paired with the reassurance or possible _lie_ that the problem would be resolved as fast as possible. She was a professional and she could do this one simple newscast without getting distracted.

Well, that had _been_ true….until he walked in. Now she'd be lucky to get out of there without calling this tiny issue a natural disaster or without him burning a hole through her with that blue gaze.

 _This is so not my day_ , she thought quietly as she sucked in a deep breath.

"Yeah, umm," Emma nodded, clearing her throat as she tore her eyes away from the man who'd just spotted her. "I'm fine. I'm great."

"If you say so," Ruby replied with a confused smirk. "You're still heading down to the park for the outdoor report after this, right?"

"Uh, of course - _yes_ ," Emma assured her, shaking her head slightly in distraction. "We should get this recorded fast though. I need to get to the park before rush hour."

"Sounds good. Oh, hey - _wait_ ," Ruby stopped her, handing over a folded piece of paper and a small bottle of sunscreen. "This was on top of the newsdesk this morning. For you I guess."

Emma took it as she narrowed her eyes at the white note, reaching for it and noticing the familiar letters that strung together her name scrawled on the outside. Her breath hitched a bit as she realized who'd penned it. That fancy, flourishing handwriting only belonged to _one_ person - and it was the same guy who'd been glancing at her like a sailor watching a stormy sky since the second he walked through that doorway two years ago.

###### 

_Emma hated Tuesday mornings. Arriving at the station early for David's little moral boosting meetings was always a pain in the ass and as much as she loved her boss, he had a way with droning on as he tried to inspire everyone from the janitor to the field reporters. Pairing that little item on her agenda with the fact that someone had recently started taking the good coffee mug - the blue one with the wide handle that she'd claimed months ago - before she could get to it._

_That someone was Killian Jones - the new chief meteorologist and total pain in the ass._

" _Top of the morning to you, Swan," he grinned over the top of his coffee as she entered the break room. "You look like you're in good spirits today."_

" _I'd be a lot more chipper if you would use your own damn coffee mug-" she groaned, giving him an annoyed glare. "-and stop stealing mine."_

" _Hardly theft, love," he replied, sliding a replacement cup to her. "You're lucky I find your grouchiness endearing enough to let you borrow this one."_

" _Killian, if you have your own mug, why can't you just use it and leave mine in the cupboard?"_

" _If I did that, we wouldn't get to have this delightful little discussion every morning," he returned, the color of the commandeered cup matching the cobalt of his eyes. "It's good for morale."_

" _Ugh, whatever," she quipped, pointing to the white skull and crossbones decal on the black mug he was graciously lending her. "Is this your way of telling me you're a pirate now?"_

" _Well - cunning treachery, rather dashing appearance, an appreciation for all things beautiful and gold," he teased, brushing a strand of blonde hair off her shoulder. "By your standards, it would appear that I've always been a pirate."_

" _I'm pretty sure you've got the questionable morals down too," she quipped, rolling her eyes. "You should add it your resume."_

" _Mmmm," he smirked. "Aye, aye, Captain."_

_Emma couldn't help but shake her head at his antics, listening to him laugh his way to the door. He paused there a moment when he dropped his napkin and Emma felt her lips part as he bent to pick it up. Taking a sip of her coffee and biting her lip gently, she let her eyes linger on the contours of tone legs and the way his pants hung perfectly from his hips. She'd barely snapped out of it before he glanced back and offered her a wink, one that seemed to know she'd been staring. A soft gasp escaped her and her sight finally noticed the writing on the opposite side of the mug he'd loaned her - Shiver Me Timbers._

" _Yeah," she breathed, watching him saunter toward the stage. "No shit."_

###### 

_That stupid idiot,_ Emma thought with a silent shake of her head as she peered down at the note Ruby had handed her. It was beyond frustrating to be thinking about him or the ways he liked to push her buttons right now. She needed to focus on work - and _not_ on the memory of his constant flirting or taunting grin.

"You ready, Emma?"

"Oh, _uh_ , yeah - yep," she nodded, smiling weakly at August as she hopped into the passenger seat of the news station van. "Let's go."

"I'm hoping we won't hit that traffic on the freeway - David said something about an accident just before that second downtown exit," he said, pulling his seatbelt on and glancing sideways at her. "Sure you're okay? You seem a little distant today."

God, this day was truly shaping up to be a bigger pain in the ass than she'd imagined possible. Her mind drifted back to the broadcast she'd just given as she tried to brush off her frustration. It hadn't been _that_ horrendous. Sure, she'd stumbled over a few simple words as they scrolled across the screen and she'd zoned out momentarily toward the end when she was supposed to announce that the late morning weather report was coming up soon. The whole situation wasn't helped by the quick wink and knowing smirk she'd been offered just before leaving the station, the subtle taunt reminding her of the previous times he'd given her that same response.

That was the _last_ thing she needed right now.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just-" she told him, trying to sound convincing. "-there's just a lot to do today."

August gave her a firm nod to assure her he knew business meant business as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the frontage road with the shortest path to the interstate. She reached for her coffee, wondering why she'd gone for hot caffeine when it was so sweltering outside before she shoved the stray slip of scribbled paper into her dress pocket. Swapping it for her report notes, Emma let out a heavy sigh as she tried to forget how annoyed she'd been with him the night before.

###### 

" _Just make sure you guys are on time to set up," she reminded them, a slight annoyance in her voice. "Let's not have another repeat of last year."_

" _I know, I know," August groaned, waving her off as he zipped up the camera bag. "Rookie mistake, but we'll be there this time. Early even, alright?"_

" _That's better," she smiled, looking up from her notes. "See you tomorrow, Booth."_

_Shuffling through the talking points she'd jotted down while eating dinner in her office, Emma tried to memorize a few of the keywords she scribbled then highlighted. When David had asked her to report on the downtown street festival again this year, she'd accepted almost too anxiously. It was an esteemed assignment and one he didn't trust just anyone with. Something about being so highly trusted by the CEO of the network made Emma feel like she was definitely in the right place._

" _Pulling an all nighter there, Swan?"_

_Well, it was the right place until she heard that voice - the one belonging to the local meteorologist in charge of the network's daily weather report. He'd rolled up the sleeves on his white button down and rid himself of the dark blazer he'd been wearing when he'd been narrating the green screen on the nine o'clock report, two things she sure as hell shouldn't have recognized so easily. Emma fought the urge to flinch as she met his curious glance. God, why hadn't he gone home yet? She didn't need this right now._

" _Jones," she acknowledged while quickly dropping her view back to her handwritten words. "You're here late."_

" _Just talking to Dave about a few things," he told her. "Busy day tomorrow, aye?"_

" _Yep," she nodded, trying to cut the small talk so he and his dressed down self would go elsewhere. "I've still got a lot left to do tonight."_

" _Ah, yes - that festival is always a rather big deal," he replied, folding his arms and leaning in the doorway. "I told David it might be fun to have you report the weather while you're down there since being outside is just so authentic for such a thing, you know?"_

" _Killian, the weather is the least of my worries for tomorrow," she returned, scribbling something on her paper. "People always attend this thing - rain or shine."_

" _Well, even though the outdoor elements don't seem to factor into your concerns," he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. "Don't you think citizens would like to know what to expect?"_

" _If they do, then they can use the internet to find out."_

" _I suppose they could, but I'm sure they'd love to hear it from the stunning yet sorely uninformed reporter in whatever little sundress you're planning on wearing," he grinned, reaching forward to twist a stray piece of her hair around his finger. "Let's face it, darling, for once in your life - you just might need me."_

_Emma scoffed at his reply, shaking her head as she rolled her eyes. She most certainly did not need his help - not when it came to one of the biggest outdoor broadcasts they did all year._

" _Fine, if it will get you to shut up," she sighed, looking up from her work, "Go ahead - what's the weather supposed to be like, Jack Frost?"_

" _Not snowy as that beloved nickname might lead one to believe," he retorted, an amused smirk toying with the corners of his mouth. "It's July, love - even you should know better."_

" _Killian…."_

" _A beautiful day, Swan - you've lucked out," he winked, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. "Should be warm all afternoon and well into the night...scorching by all accounts until at least six or so. Maybe a slight chance of humidity."_

_She watched his gaze dance with that familiar type of Killian Jones mischief - the kind that simultaneously pissed her off and set her on fire all in a matter of seconds. He let his smile expand slowly when he noticed the way his comment had rendered her wordless. Emma had made it a point to avoid these little bantering battles with him, knowing that his quick wit and charming grin gave him a slight advantage. She rolled her eyes as a last second refute while trying to ignore his victorious stance and the way his hair had grown out just enough to sweep across his forehead._

" _So dress accordingly, love," he smirked, his accent low and thick. "It's safe to say that it's going to get quite hot."_

###### 

The event broadcast had been fairly short and went off without a hitch - thank _god_. August had given her a thumbs up as she signed off to confirm and letting out a relieved breath after the camera shut off was well deserved. It took only a moment to shove the realization that she _had_ commented on the weather during her report out of her head. She hadn't felt quite so 'in the zone' in a while and the confidence boost seemed to silence her reminiscing mind. David had even shown up post filming around four, coaxing them into staying for a while to meet the viewers and 'make the community's day'. She'd laughed a little at his request, the enthusiastic ask once again confirming how highly he seemed to think of his news team.

By the time the sun went down, she'd had more than enough social interaction and managed to find one of the pop up bars the city set up during these street events. It was slightly secluded, enough that she could slip onto a stool and order a drink without having to provide too many friendly waves. The bartender nodded kindly as he set the beverage down, turning quickly to bump up the volume on the random flat screen she hadn't noticed before.

Glancing at the time scrolling across the bottom, she grumbled softly. Of course she'd sat down _right_ before the seven o'clock news.

She tried to focus on the condensation dripping off her glass and avoiding the top story - something about a vandalized clock - as she toyed with her napkin. Of course, it only took _one_ voice to push that plan aside.

"...looks like it's still a hot one out there today with temperatures holding steady in the high eighties. You won't need a jacket if you're heading downtown for the festivities tonight, but numbers like those are certainly not helping the strict drought watch we've had in place for quite some time..."

Emma wanted to glare at him through the screen, wondering if he'd planned that particular terminology ahead of time. It was likely not - his speech was smooth like that and he always had a way with finding just what to say to get his point across in the most suave way. She didn't fail to notice that a small swarm of people had paused to watch him narrate the forecast and she tapped the side of her drink as she realized she wasn't the only person to be so easily drawn in by the dark haired Irishman with the intricate vocabulary. His hands moved in long sweeping motions as he illustrated the coastline and the direction a midweek storm might take.

"...possible we might get a break with the heat by next Wednesday as there's a bit of storm front that should flow in from the east and then head north by the following weekend. There will likely be a spike in the dew points impact as well, bringing the humidity up quite a bit along with the cloudy skies we should start seeing within the next few days."

Emma propped her elbows on the table, resting her head in her hands as she watched him point out various temperatures on the colorful map projection. He smiled charmingly into the camera, clasping his hands together as he nodded to the night anchors to signal the end of his report. Letting out a defeated sigh, Emma tried to decide what was more maddening - the observation that he seemed to so genuinely enjoy the job he was great at or the fact that when he spoke like that, all she wanted to do was push him back against that green scene and kiss the _hell_ out of him.

 _Probably the latter,_ she thought with a slight blush warming her cheeks. After all, she'd noticed the former a long time ago.

###### 

_God dammit, Jones. That line had been on a loop in her mind for hours now, starting at roughly three that afternoon when David had given her the notes for the special segment report the following day. Of course they were doing a bit on the upcoming meteor shower - a subject Emma knew absolutely nothing about. Oh, but someone at the station was rather knowledgeable about the sky and it's happenings - and toward that someone was exactly where David pointed her when she asked about references._

_She'd pouted the whole afternoon about the idea of employing his expertise for this story. The last thing their arrogantly_ _accented meteorologist needed was an ego boost._

" _So stupid - 'midnight but before dawn'," she grumbled to herself, climbing the ladder that led to the outdoor weather station they'd built on the rooftop a few years back. "Why couldn't he just give me a freaking time?"_

" _Perhaps because I was planning on being out here most of the night anyway."_

_Emma jumped slightly, startled by the voice addressing her mumbled complaint. Her hand slipped a fraction as she pulled herself over the final rung of the ladder and he reached to steady her, his grip firm and warm despite the lingering chill._

" _Careful, Swan," he offered, fighting off a smile at the sight of her clumsy instance. "I'm fairly sure you can't report on the upcoming meteor shower if you fall victim to the rooftop."_

" _Uh, yeah - no kidding," she clipped in return, sighing in annoyance. "I don't understand why the hell David is so adamant that this story airs anyway. It's freaking January! Nobody wants to stand outside and watch the sky at two in the morning in the middle of winter."_

" _Well, you clearly don't," he smirked, glancing upward. "But it's probably going to be one of the more visible ones we've had for quite some time, especially if the sky stays clear."_

" _Is it supposed to, oh wise weatherman?"_

" _So far, so good, love," he winked. "But you know how uncertain and sudden the weather can be."_

" _Yeah," she replied cautiously, trying to ignore the teasing in his tone. "I know."_

" _Anyway, the peak watching time is limited - probably will be about this same time tomorrow for only a couple hours," he explained, pointing up toward a cluster of stars. "Should be right over that way by the Big Dipper."_

" _Fascinating," she sighed, shivering slightly. "What else do I need to know?"_

" _Eager to leave already, huh?"_

_He gave her that sideways smirk he used in these instances - the ones where he could see through her so effortlessly. Emma let out a soft huff, watching her breath linger in the cold air as she narrowed her eyes at him. His laugh was almost enough to earn hers as he snatched the bright red parka off the back of his chair and held it out to her._

" _Just put it on," he said with a smile. "I know you're cold."_

_She'd always felt the hypnotic hue of his blue eyes to be distracting. She wondered what kind of storms were raging behind them._

" _Fine," she mumbled, pulling the oversized coat over her shoulders and zipping it up. "Are you going to tell me what we're doing up here?"_

" _We're watching, Swan," he returned, gesturing to the stars. "The night sky - plenty to look at while we wait."_

" _For what?"_

" _Well," he started, pausing to adjust a telescope at his side. "It's not very likely, but we might be able to get a glimpse of what tomorrow night has to offer."_

" _The….meteor shower?"_

" _Aye," he grinned, raising an eyebrow curiously. "What did you think I was talking about?"_

" _I just….ugh, nothing," she said quickly, shaking her head. "So what do we do until the stars start falling?"_

" _Well, I could always explain just how incorrect that question was," he smiled, folding his arms. "Meteors and stars are quite different, Swan."_

" _Right, because you know everything about the sky and the weather and the universe," she mimicked, snatching the notebook off his station and flipping through it. "Because you're 'Killian Jones of channel two news and I can predict hurricanes and I know what bombo….bombogenesis? Oh - yes, I know exactly what that means because I'm a bloody genius'."_

" _Spot on impression, darling," he grinned as he watched her toss his notes aside. "For the record, 'bombogenesis' is when a mid-latitude cyclone drops in surface barometric pressure by-"_

" _Yeah, yeah - I get it," she sighed, offering him some semblance of a conceding smirk as she moved back to his proximity. "You're smart."_

" _That almost sounds like a compliment," he laughed, pulling the furry hood up over her head with a grin. "So I better take it before you change your mind."_

_Emma narrowed her eyes a little more playfully than she should have before looking back up at the cloudless sky overhead as she wondered about the man next to her. She knew he was a sweet talker and at least somewhat intelligent, but his smooth science talk was unexpected and quite frankly….a little intriguing._

_Stop it, she warned herself silently. This wasn't the time to start considering the menial details that made up this mystery of a man._

" _So, you really mean to tell me you grew up wanting to watch thermometers and name tropical storms?"_

" _Not exactly," he shrugged. "But we do what we're good at, love."_

" _Oh? So what makes you so adept at predicting the weather?"_

" _The same thing that makes you so good at judging a person's character," he winked. "I've had my fair share of experience."_

" _Hmmm," she countered. "How so?"_

" _I was in the Navy once - back before all of this," he explained, gesturing toward the equipment littering their space. "It's helpful for a sailor to know a bit about the stars and the sky as you can imagine."_

" _Yes, I guess I can see why that would be important," she replied, raising an eyebrow in intrigue. "So why'd you quit?"_

" _Just time to move on, I guess," he said as he seemed to hold something back. "I felt like taking on a new adventure."_

" _Ah, yes," she smiled, looking back up at the night surrounding them. "So this is what you picked? Standing on the rooftop in the freezing cold just after midnight to look for-"_

_Her words escaped her, fading into the stale winter air as she watched a bright streak move across the sky. It had been quick - almost too fast for her to believe she'd seen it - but then it happened again._

" _See that, Swan?"_

_She took a second to look over at him, noting that boyishly excited glint in his stare as he pulled his gloves on. His covered finger pointed up to where the path of the meteors had fallen and started explaining god knows what. It's not that his astronomy lesson was dull - it was just not as interesting as watching him narrate the affinity he truly had for his job._

" _You can't tell me it's not even-" he said, arching his eyebrow. "-a little bit cool, right?"_

" _Hmmm - alright," she sighed, rolling her eyes with a smirk. "It's a little bit cool."_

" _Ah," he laughed as he elbowed her softly. "Now, that's more like it."_

###### 

It was hard to fight the smile as she thought back on that odd night and the way she had gone from irritated to interested in the matter of just a few hours. Truth be told, he didn't _always_ drive her _completely_ insane. He'd shown he had more than just that relentless need to flirt with her over the couple of years she'd known him. She'd seen a few sides to the meteorologist man and as much as it pained her to admit it, she didn't hate _all_ of them.

Sure, he liked to steal her coffee mug, but he _did_ always stock the cream and sugar while making sure a fresh pot was brewing by the time she arrived at the station. He never ceased to tease her about having to wear high heels when there was a foot of snow in the parking lot, but he also saw to it that she hadn't had to scrape the windows on her car for the past two winters. He'd constantly called her a workaholic, but he'd left dinner plus a tiny can of pepper spray on her desk more than once when she was staying late at the office. The more she thought about it, the more Emma started to wonder if the new umbrella on her desk really was ' _some bloody thing the station was giving out to all the news staff'_ and if he'd only dropped her notes off at her house for three nights when she had bronchitis ' _because David knew your house was on my route home'._

Fishing in her purse for some cash to pay her tab, her hand fell on the little bottle of SPF30 and the note that had been left with it. Pressing her lips together, she gave the words another quick glance.

_Stay safe out there today, Swan. The sun can be an unforgiving foe. Oh and don't forget to smile! It looks good on you. -KJ_

She couldn't help but follow his direction, even though she was _hardly_ in the business of letting Killian Jones tell her what to do. Tracing the crease of the folded card, Emma settled with the knowledge that perhaps in his own quirky sort of way, he really _did_ care about her.

Perhaps in her own _very_ stubborn way, she kind of cared for him too.

###### 

_Emma was sure her wet windshield wipers were going to fly off her car by the time she pulled up in front of the station. Though the clouds had the sky taking on an ominous dark gray color, it was only just past noon and it had been pouring for hours now - the secondary effects of a hurricane in the south hitting them harder than usual. David had sent out the mass text for all staff to report to the building as soon a possible so they could go over the emergency procedures the city would probably put in place at any moment now. Always calm in the face of disaster, she knew she'd likely be the one broadcasting the precautionary guidelines to the public. She neglected parking restrictions as she shut off her ignition by the main doors, barely noticing a group of people loading one of the news vans. She snatched her sweater and the black umbrella on her passenger seat before stepping out off the car, carefully avoiding the puddles as she sprinted toward the entrance._

" _No, no, August - just grab those two cameras! We need to hit the road while we still can!"_

_She paused at the doors, turning back toward the directing voice as the thunder boomed overhead. It was hard to make out faces with water surrounding them in somewhat of a tempest, but she knew that accent._

" _Killian?!"_

" _Swan," he called, his tone relieved as he spotted her. "You alright?"_

_He was completely drenched, the bright blue rain jacket he'd pulled on over his regular fitted attire not doing much in the way of keeping him dry. The water saturating his dark hair was rolling down his face as he swiped it away, the lace up boots he was wearing in place of his oxfords splashing slightly as he ran toward her with heaving breath. He gave a tentative smile that was heartstopping and slightly out of place given the rush he was clearly in and her eyes went wide when he yelled back over his shoulder, giving the go ahead to start the van._

" _What the hell are you guys doing?!"_

" _Going to head down the coast a little," he yelled, his voice barely audible over the pounding precipitation. "David wants to know what we're in store for."_

" _That seems crazy," she returned loudly, trying not to sound as frantic as she felt. "Are you a freaking storm chaser now or what?"_

" _I suppose for today I am," he laughed with a smirk she wanted to observe a little longer. "It's an adventure I guess and you know I'm always up for those."_

" _Yeah, I know….I just-"_

" _Killian! We need to go now or we'll never make it out of here! The freeway is bound to start flooding soon!"_

_August's voice was urgent as the man before her bit his lip, the sound of sirens suddenly blaring from a distance as she gripped her umbrella a little tighter. He glanced back at her with the bluest certainty in his eyes and a reassuring nod that told her he needed to leave._

" _Killian, wait," she stopped him, grabbing his arm instinctively. "Just….be careful."_

_He stared down at her grip, smiling softly as he pushed the soaking wet hair off his forehead. His fingers pressed against her with a slight squeeze as he gave her a smoldering look she'd never seen before. It was comforting in the strangest way and Emma tried not to linger on the feel of his cold, wet, protective hand as it stroked hers._

" _Always am, love," he told her, his words a little quieter. "Just a little rain - nothing I can't handle."_

" _Will you….can you call me - I mean us….when you are headed back? Let me….err, us….know you're safe?"_

" _Definitely," he agreed, reaching over to brush an stray raindrop off her cheek. "I promise."_

_He took off toward the sliding door of the van, looking back at her once more with a surprised grin before hopping into the back seat. She narrowed her eyes as the storm picked up stamina and blurred her view, watching the vehicle cautiously head up the frontage street before dashing into the building._

_Shaking off her umbrella, she headed to her office with a shiver as she flopped into the chair to wait. Tossing her phone on the desk with a thud, she peeked at the time. The broadcast would be brief - they always were in these circumstances - and then she'd find something to busy herself as she waited for his communication._

_Why she suddenly cared so much was beyond her, but watching him head off into the eye of what was and would continue to be a treacherous storm was unsettling - and it was until her phone rang._

" _Killian? You there? Is everything….are you - I mean is everyone okay?"_

" _Aye," he answered, his breath heavy as she heard the smile in his voice. "We're on our way back to the station. The hurricane down south took a turn and it looks like it's headed back out to sea. Should cause the rain to let up soon."_

" _Oh, that's….good," she replied, noticing how the water pounding her window had begun to weaken. "So you're….everyone's safe?"_

" _Yeah, we're good," he told her, pausing as he seemed to catch her apprehension. "Everything okay with you, Swan?"_

" _Yeah - yeah, of course," she breathed, her voice relaxing as she listened to him talk. "Just glad to hear that you've successfully scared away a hurricane. I suppose I truly underestimated your ability to outwit the weather."_

" _You know for a second there, it almost sounded like you might have been worried about me," he teased. "Maybe just the tiniest bit?"_

" _Whatever you have to tell yourself," she lied, falling back into the safety of their usual banter. "So do they have a clever name for this one yet? Hurricane Joe or Bob or Steve - something like that?"_

" _Very clever, love," he laughed, a strange sincerity to the sound of his voice. "Though in full disclosure I've got to admit I used to wonder all the time why we name huge storms after people, but….well, then I met you."_

" _Wow," Emma laughed, rubbing her eyes as her cheeks grew hot. "Do those lines always work for you?"_

" _Well," he quipped with that amused accent. "I guess we'll find out."_

" _Bye, Killian," she grinned into the receiver. "Try not to get wetter than you already were the last time I saw you._

" _Hmmm," he replied, obviously still in full flirt mode. "Same to you, darling."_

_Emma quickly hit the red button that would end the call, wanting nothing more than to avoid the chill his little innuendo was sending down her spine. She tossed the device onto her desk with a slight glare and a prodding realization._

_Killian Jones had finally gotten to her._

###### 

"Don't worry about the cameras, Em," David smiled, making his way across the dark parking lot. "August said he'd take care of it in the morning. Great work today!"

"Thanks, David," she nodded, smiling in exhaustion with a wave. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Emma watched the headlights on his truck brighten as she exhaled deeply, her feet plodding the pavement as she headed back toward the building. August had brought the van back earlier and she'd hitched a ride with David, listening to his idea for a midsummer cooking segment as she realized she'd left her printouts for the morning report in her office. God, the _last_ thing she wanted to do was venture into the darkness of a vacant station after such a draining day.

 _Dammit_ , she thought with a weak groan as she set about dragging her sore feet in the necessary direction.

The day had been such a roller coaster of thoughts and emotions, her mind bouncing back and forth between work and the distracting man she worked _with_. She'd spent plenty of time being irritated with him over the hours between that morning until she caught his weather broadcast that night, but she'd also spent a _very_ solid ten minutes or so admiring _way_ too much about him - those focused and inviting blue eyes, his cheeky yet smoldering smirk, the way his suit coat stretched along his toned bicep when he moved his arm to show the weather pattern progression across the screen.

God, she wanted to _slap_ herself as she yanked open the glass door that led to the main stage. She shouldn't be thinking this way about a man who had a career built on the most overused topic of small talk.

"Swan?"

Emma jumped a mile in the air, cursing loudly as her hand pressed hard over her mouth. Her pulse was racing far too fast by the time she realized just who the sudden use of that affectionate nickname had come from.

"Jesus _Christ_ , Jones! What the _hell_ are you doing here?!"

His face took on that stupid, _annoying_ , oh so handsome smirk he seemed to save for her - the one that had confused her emotions several times in a way that was definitely _not_ workplace appropriate. His walk was casual but confident as he laughed, raising an eyebrow at her dramatic reaction.

"Just waiting for you," he explained, his expression immediately realizing how bold his words had been as he chuckled softly. "I _mean_ , I knew you'd be getting back late and didn't think you'd prefer to unload all that camera equipment alone. I had some precipitation logs to look over from the past few weeks so I thought I'd stick around and work while I waited to see if you wanted some help."

He looked oddly endearing in the dim light of the studio, his initial arrogance suddenly shifting into uncertainty. His eyes were kind and the tiniest bit hopeful as he scratched nervously behind his ear, a movement that ruffled his grown out hair. The shadows seemed to make him appear vulnerable and perhaps even tolerable. Emma supposed it couldn't hurt to find out if that might be true.

"Oh," she replied after a moment. "That's….nice of you. I think David and August are going to do it in the morning though. They just left and I'm just here to….pick up my notes for tomorrow."

" _Ah_ , 'nice of me'," he repeated, leaning back against the wall with a curious smile. "Is that a compliment?"

"I guess," she shrugged, walking to the news desk. "Why?"

"Oh you know, just clarifying," he replied, widening his eyes. "Because you certainly weren't full of those yesterday."

Emma tilted her head slightly, considering his position and rather unexpected accusation. His eyes were a shade of dark blue that seemed to challenge her. She had to smile at the way he straightened his shoulders in defense - even a shift in posture couldn't distract from how he was clearly hoping she'd piece his ego back together.

She'd hurt his feelings - and the realization suddenly put him into a whole different light despite the dim nature of the room.

"I wasn't trying to be rude."

"Never said you were," he grinned sheepishly. "It was merely an observation, love. I'm only trying to keep up I guess."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I just never seem to know where I stand with you, Swan."

His jaw flexed slightly as he considered her, his arms folded casually over his chest. It was hard to tear her sight away from him when he gave her that challenging glare, but by the time she did, his victorious grin told her he'd taken note of her gawking.

"Well, you're _usually_ standing in my way of getting work done-" she shot back, sorting through the stack of stories she'd asked Ruby to leave for her. "- _just_ like you are right now.

"Only because you're so good at deflecting my inquiries," he quipped in return. "Like when I asked if you've been enjoying the recent weather and you told me….let's _see_ , I believe your words were-"

"That it's been a little 'too hot to handle'," Emma rolled her eyes, trying not to blush at the dumbest reply she could have given him. "I _know_ what I said, Jones."

"Aye, _that_ was it," he beamed, raising an eyebrow. "You certainly have a way with setting a man up for an innuendo, don't you?"

"No, that was _only_ my answer because I couldn't very well say 'it's hot as hell outside' with my boss standing right there," she sighed, not looking up from a paragraph about upcoming summer road construction. "We weren't exactly alone."

"True," he nodded, moving closer and taking the papers from her. "But we are _now_."

His skin was tanned and radiating warmth as he leaned in slightly, his hands falling to rest on opposite sides of the desk. He caged her loosely in his arms as her lower back bumped against the heavy piece of furniture while the low studio light battled the shadows on his face. He looked at her with that same passionate, pleading stare he used any time they got too close. It almost scared her how easily such a glance could render her speechless.

"So tell me, love," he said, his breath softly brushing her ear. "How _do_ you feel about the heat?"

The air leaving his lips was teasingly warm, drawing chills against her neck as he steadied his breathing. Emma felt his biceps tighten as he pressed a little harder on the desk and the fire in his locked vision burned with a little more blue.

God, what was he _doing?!_

"I mean, it's the dead of summer, Swan," he continued, his tone low and heavy. "Temperatures are bound to rise. It could end up being quite the searing season."

"Yeah, _maybe_ , but….even you've said before that weather-" she replied, biting her lip as his pant leg skimmed her bare one. "-can be unpredictable at times."

"I suppose that's accurate," he agreed, his tongue tracing his teeth. "But if you don't take the chance and predict _something_ , you'll never know if you're right."

"Things don't always have to come down to that," she told him as she watched the movement of his mouth. "You don't _always_ get to win, you know."

"Valid point, but it's fun to try, right?"

"So you're saying that you like-" Emma swallowed, a soft gasp escaping her. "-to take risks?"

"I'm saying that sometimes it pays off," he smiled, his eyes full of a simmering honesty that threatened to lay the truth out between them. "Sometimes it's worth taking the chance."

"Hmmm," she breathed, trying not to shiver at the feel of his muscular arms on either side of her. "Only sometimes?"

"Aye," he said, his fingertip trailing up her arm. "So let me."

As much as she'd been expecting his desire filled words, she was quickly reminded how unprepared she was for the burning passion they ignited the second his fingers tangled in her hair. Emma felt her knees weaken as his lips crashed into hers, sweeping them up in a moment that was long overdue. Her hands held tight to his shoulders, her touch digging into the fabric of that dark blue button down she loved so much. The groan that escaped him was almost predatory, the sound making every part of her body tingle with want for this man - the one who'd driven her from one side of crazy to the other for _far_ too long.

As his hands began to wander across the bare skin of her arms and down to her waist, Emma realized he was fully capable of making her completely insane in a _few_ different ways.

"Come _here_ ," he breathed, his voice rough and rugged against her lips as he lifted her to the desk's flat surface. "Aye….that's much better."

She smiled, reaching for his collar and yanking him closer before her cloudy mind could sort out what was happening. His mouth parted as he held her jaw, his free hand landing on her thigh and inching the fabric of her skirt upward. He let out an unstable exhale when he grazed bare skin and gave his approval on her choice of attire with a distracted grin. Emma let her hands slide up the back of his neck to his scalp as he bit down gently on his lip and she couldn't help but tug lightly on his thick hair, an action that made him groan deliciously. His palms were anchored firmly on the desk as she undid his shirt, becoming too impatient and opting to pull it open roughly so the buttons scattered to land at his feet. With his hair a total mess and that wrecked expression on his face, it was hard not to desire him - and god, she was so _tired_ of fighting it.

"I steal your mug and you wreck my shirt," he teased, pressing a kiss to her throat. "Is that how it is now?"

"No, I've just been wanting to do that-" she replied with a swallowed moan. "-since I saw you this morning."

Her admission seemed to spark something in him and his hands followed the path of his lips, tracing every inch of her as he uncovered more of her bare skin. He tugged at the zipper on the back of her dress, dragging his hands down the length of her exposed shoulder blades with the soft press of his fingernails. Emma shuddered at his firm touch while wondering if there was any way she could come out of this in one piece.

It was all but certain that this man was _her_ hurricane - and he wanted to ruin her in the most breathlessly chaotic way.

"Bloody _hell_ , beautiful," he mumbled, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip as his fingers caressed her jaw. "Emma, _love_ …."

"Killian," she started, her eyes closing briefly as his mouth lowered to the contour of her collarbone. "Just…. _god_ , just kiss me."

He heeded her command for once in his life, rising back to resume the kiss with his smile melting back against her lips before her tongue found his. Emma couldn't help the way her hands set into overdrive, her touch suddenly all over him as she explored his heated skin and the definition of his muscular arms. Her palms rested on his chest after a moment and she tried to anchor herself before she drowned in the kiss. Emma felt the fabric of her dress fall from her shoulders as soft fingertips climbed higher on her thigh and she encouraged his touch, scooting closer as he smirked against her mouth.

"Be _patient_ , Swan," he teased, his teeth dragging lightly on her bottom lip. "I'm getting there."

Letting herself fall backward slightly, she flinched as his fingers found the lacy garment beneath her skirt and tugged it slowly down her legs. It fell to the ground as he gathered the material of the dress in his grip and pushed it upward, sinking to his knees as he kissed up the length of her inner thigh. Her body shivered as his tongue followed the path his lips had taken, his teeth biting gently along the way.

"I can't tell you how many times-," he breathed, leaning closer as his hot breath hovered over her. "-I've imagined laying you out on this desk, love."

The words went straight to her core, her hips writhing as she rutted them toward the heat of his mouth. He smiled against her as his tongue finally pressed flat against her with a low moan that came from one of them - though Emma was in _no_ frame of mind to figure out who. Her hands slammed against the surface of the desk as she gripped the edges, her body vibrating under his calculated teasing. The gentle nip of his teeth pulled a sharp gasp from her lips as her fingers lifted and dug firmly into his scalp, encouraging his movement as he gripped her legs.

"Oh - _Killian_ ," she cried, arching her back as she pressed against him. "Please…. _yes_ …."

She lingered on the peak of ecstasy, holding on with a groan as he rose back to his feet at record speed. His thumb moved to the place his mouth had been worshipping and he sucked a light mark just below her jaw. Emma felt her hands clumsily locate his belt, pulling hard on it and letting it fall to the tile floor below as he unbuttoned his pants. He let her do the rest and she didn't hesitate, her anxious grip tugging the material down as she palmed him. The feel of his solid length in her hand was tempting and she gave him a quick stroke while he coaxed her back into the kiss, the burn of his beard making her lips tingle.

"Emma," he managed, his hips moving in rhythm with her hand. "I want you, love…. _so_ much."

She nodded, using rushed hands to pull him closer as he guided her back to lay flat against the cold surface. She trembled at the feel of her flushed skin on the solid wood and watched him with hazy eyes as he pushed her knees a little further apart. Keeping his hands steady on her thighs, he pulled her forward and sank into her with a deep thrust. He let out a low groan, allowing them both a moment to adjust before he started to move.

" _Swan_ ," he breathed, his tone honest as he ran a hand through her hair. "Look at me…."

Her eyes focused as she bit her lip, her surreal vision capturing the dark shade of his almost affectionate stare. Unable to stop herself, she reached for his cheek and guided his lips back down to hers. The kiss was stabilizing in the sweetest way and his forehead rested against hers as he finally started to roll his body against hers. Letting her hands grip his shoulders for leverage, she tried to keep _somewhat_ quiet.

"It's okay, love," he assured her, letting his teeth tease her ear before straightening his stance. "We're the only ones here."

"Mmmm," she nodded, her lips parting as he held her hips a little firmer. "Then move…. _faster_."

"Hmmm," he hummed, increasing his pace as he pressed his palm flat between her breasts with a slow drag. "Like this?"

"Yes….but…. _more_ ," she nodded, holding tightly to his biceps. " _Harder_ , Killian."

"God, _love_ ," he growled, pulling her close as his body jerked and he sunk deeper. "You….are _so_ ….oh, Swan…."

"Mmmm, _Killian_ ," she begged, vibrating beneath him as he slid in and out. "Just like that. _Please_ ….just like that."

"Emma, are…. _you_ -"

"So close," she cut in, giving up the fight against the sounds falling from her lips. "Don't stop."

He grunted heavily as he let his thumbs press hard on her hipbones, the weight of him driving her mad as her body climbed higher. He pulled her up into his firm embrace at the last second, driving up into her twice more before she fell, collapsing against his naked chest while he followed her with a sated moan. Their rhythm was natural as they each rode out the pleasure coursing through their entwined bodies before he sunk to the floor, his back against the desk as he kept her firmly in his lap. Her breath evened out as he traced circles on her back and she attempted to sit upright as he noticed the flushed state of her skin with a lazy smile.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you never listen to me," he taunted, placing a kiss and a smoothing thumb over the redness of her skin. "Your arms are rather red, love."

"Yeah, I know," she laughed, lowering her forehead to his. "The offer was a nice touch though."

"Well, I figured one of us ought to take into account the sun's ability to ravish your skin," he grinned. "In case you haven't noticed, _I'd_ prefer to be the one doing the ravishing."

"Mmmm," she mumbled with a sated expression. "Well, in the spirit of listening to you, am I in for more harsh weather tomorrow?"

"Oh, you haven't heard? Snow day tomorrow, darling," he smirked. "Quite unusual for July, but it should be _quite_ tumultuous. I'd suggest staying inside _all_ day."

"I'm pretty sure someone's going to notice if we both decided to take a day off," she reminded him, pulling her fingers through his shaggy hair. "Sure you want to create suspicion like that?"

"Actually, I'll be doing 'field work' and _you_ -" he said with a lingering kiss. "-will be resting with that sunburn and _very_ sudden case of heat stroke you earned working outdoors all day."

She had to laugh at that plan, her mind calm as he lifted a hand to tuck her hair back behind her ear. The relaxing feel of his fingertips was something she didn't know if she'd ever get used to - but _dammit_ , she wanted to try.

"I guess I can get on board with that," she mused, letting his simple grin make her skin tingle. "But what about after tomorrow?"

"Well, it's summer," he sighed, lifting an eyebrow in a hopeful manner. "So would it be naive of me to _hope_ that the cooperating weather might continue?"

"No," she replied, matching his smirk as she read between the lines of his alluding answer. "That seems like a fair prediction."

"Good," he said softly. "Here's hoping I'm right."

Emma let him punctuate his words with a gentle kiss, one that made her feel comfortable and crazy with want at the same time. It had only taken them two years to reach such a content place, but as he tickled her back, all she wanted was to stay right there in the perpetual whirlwind he had easily created. This wasn't really something she'd foreseen happening when she'd first set eyes on the man with the stormy blue eyes, but part of her thought _perhaps_ he'd predicted it.

After all, that _was_ part of his job - and as the clouds left her mind, Emma finally admitted to herself that Killian Jones was a _hell_ of a lot more than _just_ a weatherman.


	14. Migration Patterns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little summer smutty one shot about Killian and Emma as whale research colleagues who have some unresolved feelings and sexual tension galore. Rated M for sure.

Emma wasn't really sure how long she'd been standing on the boardwalk, her stubborn feet glued to the wood as she tried to muster some buried enthusiasm. The waves were quite calm today, a huge contrast to the way her mind was raging and tumbling through the irritating task at hand. She _really_ loved her job - truly she did - but she really, _really_ did not want to be here right now.

In all fairness, this yearly trip to the bay just below the north Washington border hadn't always been the bane of her career. She was actually the one to first put the idea of a seaside wildlife report into her editor's mind a few summers ago. Growing up near the Vancouver coast had put a love for the water way down into the depths of Emma's soul and finding a way to include that passion in the work she did for the aquarium was something of a dream fulfilled. She never imagined being somewhat thrilled that being a field writer for several nature magazines would bring her back so close to home - after all, she'd spent plenty of time trying to leave this place.

That elated feeling had occurred over the past three years, but not this time. Now, hopping the boat out to the bay made her nerves spike and her stomach flip flop - and no, _not_ in a seasick sort of way.

She'd been able to catch the early morning ferry out to the islands along with a handful of tourists anxious to observe the same breathtaking sight she'd come here to hopefully document - the Southern resident orcas on the move.

She'd only been lucky enough to catch a close up of the migration once before when she was a little girl at the helm of her grandpa's boat. Her own father was retired Navy and had joined a local fishing company very close to the small island she was headed for, making a life for her and her younger brother near the sea. Whale watching in general was a past time she'd learned to love very early on, even though the pod of native orcas - the ones she was always anxious to spot - were a little more tricky to pursue. She'd developed a fascination with them, following her interest to a degree in marine biology with a focus on whale and dolphin behavior. Her acquired knowledge had taken her far, allowing her to land a position as a part time professor while spending the rest of her time writing articles for various science journals. She'd spent over a decade building her career into what it was and she liked to think that perhaps her father was proud of what she'd accomplished - though she didn't really bother to ask during their infrequent phone calls and her _very_ rare trips back to her childhood home.

Adjusting her backpack and the strap of her camera over her shoulder, Emma looked out at the harbor of the northwest island she'd landed on. It was such a beautiful place with its tall rocky cliffsides and smooth waves littered with boats of every kind. She didn't want to taint such a pretty picture with her begrudged spirit and she took a deep breath as she realized the only way around this little misfortune was to face it.

 _Damn you, Jones_ , she thought as she started the downhill jaunt toward the docks.

###### 

She usually made her own arrangements for this trip, selecting everything from lodging to rental car personally and expensing it accordingly. In the past, she'd called a month or so ahead to book a charter with a local guy named William Smee. He was the epitome of a longtime sailor, weathered by the sea but still cheerful with a contagious laugh that made her yearly work trip rather entertaining.

This year, however, the agenda hadn't exactly been of her own accord. She'd been invited - or perhaps _summoned_ was more accurate.

Emma could still remember the morning she'd gotten the envelope with that familiar Washington postmark. She'd run her fingertips over it with furrowed eyebrows before tearing into it to find a copy of her recent article on the social grouping of whales in the wild - the one where she'd mentioned that she was looking forward to visiting the sea for further research soon. That particular line had been circled with red pen and a small note had been jotted off to the side. She'd never forgotten just who that fine, flourishing handwriting belonged to.

_Whenever you're ready, Swan. -KJ_

Those two initials had made her heart pound as she realized who'd sent the rather vague offer and she felt her face go hot when she noticed the business card he'd included for his new venture. Listed in red embossing were the letters that made up the name 'Jolly Roger Fishing & Boat Company' - and it didn't take long to spot the business sign with the same name hanging on the rickety wooden door of the corner boathouse.

It's not like she planned on spending her day of research with _him_. She merely wanted to prove a point that she did _not_ stay indoors all day, wondering what it would be like to be out on the actual ocean. She'd tentatively scheduled this outing ages ago and she was going to spend it as far away as possible from the man who'd sent her his creatively criticizing correspondence _several_ times since he'd abandoned his work for the sea. She could handle this without him, _dammit_.

Well, that _had_ been her plan - but it collapsed in a matter of minutes under the guise of that taunting, tempting, completely tantalizing accent.

"Well, well, _well_ , if it isn't Emma Swan," the voice said, hitting her harder than expected. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She spun around slowly, hearing her boots hitch slightly on the wood planks under her feet. It took only a moment to spot him as her eyes drifted several paces away to a boat that had apparently just anchored - one that had a very cocky and oh _so_ expected captain.

"Killian," she nodded, keeping a somewhat straight face and hoping she didn't sound as breathless as she felt. "It's….nice to see you too."

It was a bit of an understatement really. Emma felt chills spread across her skin at the sight of him and that devastatingly handsome smirk. It had been quite some time since she'd laid her admiring eyes on her former colleague and while his appearance had shifted to fit this new lifestyle he'd undertaken, he was still well beyond attractive. His hair was longer, but still dark and begging to be pulled as it swooped across his forehead with the breeze. He'd always had a bit of scruff, but she had never seen his beard quite this thick and full. He'd always been good looking, but this was a new rugged sort of handsome - and god, it _certainly_ suited him.

His attire was much more casual than the silk ties and argyle socks he'd worn back in the office setting. He'd obviously traded those long ago for his current threads - relaxed but fitted jeans, a navy blue henley, brown work boots, and a dark green jacket with heavy pockets that hung down to his waist. He had a gray scarf looped around his neck - a detail that almost made her laugh - and he tossed it aside before tying up the boat with dexterous hands. His eyes never left hers as he worked and she could almost feel him analyzing her motives for showing up.

Well, _not_ that she really had any - and if she did, they didn't revolve around a happy reunion.

"I've got to say it's a bit surreal to see you here, love," he said, lifting an eyebrow. "I mean you don't call, you don't write…."

"I wish I could say the same, but unfortunately, I _do_ still receive regular mail," she quipped, folding her arms. "Hence the reason I'm here. Oh and I was _not_ wrong about the number of resident orcas in the wild-"

"I believe you wrote 'less than a hundred'," he glared, sighing in exasperation. "We both know that's quite vague, _darling_."

"Do _not_ call me 'darling'-" she retorted. "-and do _not_ tell me how to report my findings."

"Right, Swan," he groaned, rolling his eyes as he tossed the rolled up rope to the deck of the boat. "I forget you're the 'expert'."

"I never said that," she glared in return. "I'm just saying that I've studied whale populations and the lack of stability for a long time. I like to think I know a _little_ more than your average out of towner."

"I'm sure you do, love," he smirked. "I'm also quite certain that you've got a framed fancy paper or two that says you know a whole _lot_ more that some seaside fisherman too, right?"

"Is that all you are now? A first rate deckhand with sassy remarks? Or do you actually have anything of value to say?"

"I'm merely stating that it's foolish that some institution or organization will give you all the funding in the world so you can cozy up in your little office with your spreadsheets or textbooks pretending you know all about the ocean when _really_ -" he paused, hopping down from the side of the boat to land right in front of her. "-you don't."

His tongue ran across his bottom lip as he gave her that challenging gaze, the one full of blue fire he seemed to keep on reserve for her. He smelled like the sea, the mist from the waves blowing that familiar salty and _very_ Killian type scent toward her as she watched him consider her. He shook his head lightly, pushing the dark strands of hair that the wind toyed with up out of his eyes in a _very_ distracting manner.

That's what this man was. He was a _distraction_ \- and one she didn't have time for.

"I can promise you that I do plenty of research while I 'sit in my office' and I know what I'm doing," she retorted, her hands finding her hips. "I've checked the facts with Graham, the guest speaker who was at the aquarium last week, and-"

"Humbert? _Really?_ The man is an oceanographer who lives _six_ hours from the water," he laughed, raising an eyebrow. "What could he possibly know that would be helpful to you?"

"He's _accredited_ , Killian - people know who he is," she reminded him. "He's given several lectures at conferences near the coast and he's writing a book. Plus, he stuck around a lot longer than _you_ -"

"Still doesn't mean he's got any idea, Swan," Killian cut in, giving her a stubborn stare. "You've got to live it to know it."

The slight tan lines marking his skin and his shaggy, sexy appearance confirmed that he'd committed to this life in a way many researchers never would. He had every right to remind her of his ability to go to passionate extremes, but the fact that he was doing so at the moment was a little irritating - especially when she'd come all this way to see for herself what he was up to.

Wait - _no_. She'd journeyed here for work. He was _not_ part of her agenda.

"Oh, so you decided to become a beach bum and that suddenly makes you Jacque Cousteau?"

"Flattery has _never_ suited you, love," he grinned. "But yes, I like to believe when it comes to knowledge of the water and wildlife, I can hold my own with you scholarly lot."

"So you're saying you want to….educate me or something?"

"Mmmm, _well_ ," he grinned, his stare landing on her lips. "That's _one_ way of putting it."

Emma felt a blush cover her cheeks as she shook her head at his blatant flirting. Fighting off a smile that matched his rather victorious one was near impossible, but she took a deep breath while endeavoring to do so. _Bastard_ , she thought as she ignored the seductive look on his face.

"I'm glad to see you've retained your arrogance."

"Arrogance and confidence are two _very_ different things, Swan," he said, folding his arms with that sassy smirk. "Glad to see you've kept track of my more endearing qualities, even though we don't get to discuss them regularly anymore."

"Well, I'm not the one who left the university payroll to go play deep sea fisherman," she quipped. "So whose fault is that?"

She heard the sharpness in her tone the moment the sarcastic question left her lips. His shoulders slumped a bit as he seemed to process her near accusation and Emma wondered if her words hurt as much as the news that he was leaving their conservation project those few years earlier had. She didn't _mean_ to destroy his ego, but scuffing it up a bit seemed like reasonable turnabout.

"Fair enough," he nodded after a moment, scratching at the thick scruff on his jaw. "I suppose that means we've got some lost time to catch up on."

"Actually _I_ have some work to do," she replied, sliding her sunglasses back on. "So I'll have to pass on the heart-to-heart."

"Oh, come _on_ , love. Let me make it up to you."

"No," she stated stubbornly, pausing as he gave her a challenging smirk. "Ugh, how?"

"Well, you're here to research for your article," he deduced, wiggling his eyebrows. "Let me help you."

He shoved his hands deep in his jacket pockets, the thin waterproof material holding strong against the breeze. His hair blew carelessly in a few wild directions, but it didn't distract from those navy blue eyes and the way they seemed to dare her to act. He had a way with this whole game between them. He'd always been able to win her over with that seaworthy stare and while she hated the idea of letting him succeed once again, the offer had her _quite_ curious.

"I don't really need advice on where to catch the biggest salmon or how to cast a line, Killian."

"I'll make note of that," he chuckled, tilting his head toward the deck. "But I do have a boat and a fair knowledge of the wildlife here - and it looks like you're hoping to spy some…."

His sentence trailed off as he reached for her notes, a gesture that caused Emma to recoil quickly. He rolled his eyes at her skittish reaction and he stretched out his hands in waiting once more. She was fairly sure she didn't need him. She knew….well, _sort_ of knew the area. She could probably find at least ten other boat captains who would take her out on the water minus the saucy attitude, but Emma knew Killian - and _he_ knew the ocean like the back of his strangely seductive hand.

"Whales," she sighed, shoving her folder of findings into his grip. "I'm writing a piece on how food sources cause seasonal movement of marine life."

"So Emma Swan has come to see the orcas, huh?"

The question was far too specific the moment it hit her ears and her stance straightened with a rigid movement. He flipped through the papers she'd handed him with focused sight, seemingly oblivious to her silent state of panic. She'd never said a word about killer whales and her current notes were still rather plain, but he'd somehow pieced her mission together anyway.

"How _did_ ….umm, yeah," she said, clearing her throat carefully. "I guess that's my hope. I know it's hit and miss in those cases though. You don't see them often, do you?"

"Not as often as I'd like," he nodded, his fingertips landing on the business card for his company that she'd been storing with her papers. "But I do have a decent idea of where to look. Probably more than most anyone else who'd be willing to sail you out today and fortunately for you, my afternoon is all clear. So what do you say, love?"

Her eyes darted around the somewhat vacant docks as she considered him and the way the sunlight beat down on her skin. She didn't really have time to check out other options - if there even _were_ any, of course - and even if he was a self assured _ass_ at times, Emma knew he was being truthful about his acuity regarding the movement of oceanic animals. Her answer could only go one way.

"Fine," she conceded. "Let's go, Captain."

###### 

"So why orcas, Swan?"

His voice was a little louder now as he spoke over the splashing of water alongside the boat. Emma had spent their short trip out into the bay at the bow, staring down at the movement of the subtle waves and smiling at how predictable the patterns were while the misty air danced over her skin. Little had changed about this place since last year - well, at least that's what first glance suggested.

 _He_ was sure different now though. It had been just over four years since she'd seen him lock up the office across the hall from her own in all his stubborn glory, nodding with a slight smile before dropping his keys off at the front desk and leaving the building for good. He'd always looked so clean cut and well dressed at work, just like you'd expect the poster boy for the newest whale research project to be. His shirts were always pressed and his smile was almost always full of charm - unless it was drenched in that sexy smolder he'd offered her a few times when they ran into each other at office events or conventions.

It was _that_ look which eventually led her to doing a little research of her own.

She wouldn't be able to find out much without actually speaking to him - a fact her _numerous_ internet searches confirmed - but she'd uncovered the basics. He was Killian Jones, the lead biologist and lecturer from her alma mater and the man who'd single handedly launched several whale conservation efforts over the course of his still rather new career. He was smart, suave, _very_ sexy - and as she soon found out, her new project supervisor.

It was hard to hide the blush on her cheeks as she remembered the embarrassment she'd felt when she had learned that news and she could only hope to high heaven that he didn't see it still plastered all over her face now. Being enthralled with your boss's sultry accent and his endless sex appeal was probably not the best way to start out the new job she'd been assigned to that day all those years ago.

It took some time to learn to squander those unwelcome thoughts about his studious blue eyes and to hide the affinity she had regarding his ass when he wore his dark gray slacks, but once she did, Emma found she truly enjoyed simply being around him. He was excruciatingly intelligent in so many areas of science and he seemed to possess a true, unyielding desire to learn more. They'd debated the causes of endangered marine animals increases and she spent hours listening to his stories of studying the sea, his words excited as he spoke a mile a minute. It was a comfortable and challenging career she found herself in - until the day he turned their compiled work over to be completely hers before leaving for the wild.

It was perfect - until _he_ decided it wasn't anymore.

"I could ask you the same thing," she called back, sweeping her hair out of her eyes as she shelved the memory. "You've been chasing them longer than I have, Jones."

"Aye," he laughed, slowing the boat cautiously. "But I _did_ ask you first."

His burning smile still had a way of making her heart race, even if she was still a _little_ annoyed with him. She tried to focus on his question in lieu of fixating on his intense gaze, but soon found out that such a task _might_ be the most difficult part of her trip.

"I've only seen them once before," she offered, continuing to watch him. "Even though I grew up pretty close to here, I've only seen them that _single_ time years ago, but it was….one of those moments, you know?"

"The kind you never forget?"

"Yeah," she grinned, matching his current expression. "I guess I….want to remember the way that feels."

He nodded receptively at her response, the mischief in his eyes telling her she'd given him an answer he certainly understood. He was easier to read in that instance and it made her wonder just how kindred they were in this love for the black and white animals.

"So," she said, standing and walking toward where he stood behind the wheel. "My turn?"

"Alright, I'll play," he laughed. "Go ahead, Swan."

"Why did you really leave?"

He let out a heavy sigh, biting his bottom lip as he looked out over the water. There was something conflicted in the sound and Emma wondered if he was still sorting through the choice he'd made to bow out of the lecture circuit so he could pursue his field work full time. Lord knows _she'd_ thought about his decision more than she should.

"Time for a new adventure I suppose," Killian finally answered. "You know, speaking on behalf of whale conservation was never about earning the spotlight for me. It's a cause I truly care immensely about. It was something I wanted to explore and simply help spread awareness. I still do that - I just do it here."

"By playing Captain Hook of the Harbor?"

"Hey, being a pirate is not necessarily a _bad_ thing," he teased, winking in a manner that could possibly be called flirtatious. "Particularly a charming one like meself."

"It's good to see that your language is completely seaworthy," she laughed, sliding her sunglasses up on top of her head. "So why are we out here in the middle of the strait? I'm fairly sure we're not going to see them this far inland if they're journeying a long distance today."

"Oh, come on, Swan," he said distractedly, moving around the tempered glass windshield to the starboard side and focusing on the rippling water. "At some point, you've gotta trust me."

She heard them before she saw them - that subtle, quick slicing through water sound followed by a low humming call that she'd recognize anywhere. The noise grew as she turned to look over her shoulder, her eyes widening as her mouth dropped open. Her voice was gone in an instant as she counted the synchronized black dorsal fins appearing from a short distance. The world seemed to slow as she watched them move, a series of whistles and squeaks filling the air as they swam closer.

"Killian…."

"Bloody hell," he said quietly, his mouth curving into a disbelieving smile. "They _are_ back."

Emma exhaled with a sound of complete astonishment, her vision locked on the scene in front of them as a pod of nearly a dozen resident orcas traversed the calm water. The space around them was nearly silent save for the communicative clicking and wailing the jet black and pale white animals emitted as they moved past the boat. She jumped slightly when one of the larger adults surfaced, letting out a sudden huff of air that sent a spray of mist upward. Killian laughed at her reaction, the grin on his face pure amusement at her action but also proof of just how amazed he was with the display before them.

"Killian, how did you know?"

"I heard report of them on the move this morning - a few fishermen thought they might be headed this way," he replied, his eyes still glued to the water. "It seemed like a slim chance as they've been hard to spot these last couple years, but I hoped-"

A quick tail splash caused them both to shudder with matching gasps and Emma had to shake her head at how such a breathtaking moment seemed to dissolve the slight negativity tainting the space between them since they'd faced one another at the docks. Seeing him in this natural enthralled state again was sure…. _something_. Emma shoved the idea aside for the time being as she watched one of the juvenile whales breech with a small splash.

"They're so…."

Her voice hung in the air very absent of an adjective that would be appropriate as they stood on the deck, watching the dark fins break through the water and disappear below the surface. She caught a glimpse of the smallest member of the pod, her mind racing as she pointed the tiny orca out to him in a rather overly excited manner.

"Aye, that's the little one," he grinned widely, lending her his binoculars. "Gotta be almost six months old by now. He sticks pretty close to those two females on opposite sides of him - mother and grandma I believe."

"He's so _cute_ ," she laughed, fighting back the emotion of actually seeing what she'd been in pursuit of for years now. "They've got every right to be protective."

"Aye," he concurred. "You know, orcas actually-"

"Stay with their mothers their entire lives? Build amazing social bonds within their pods?"

"I should have guessed you'd already be aware of such things," he said with an amused chuckle. "It's easy to admire that strong sense of family. They might even outrank humans on that level."

Emma smiled softly at that, hearing the twinge of envy in his tone and wondering if the whales had a way of filling that void he must have had once upon a time in his earlier life. It was easy to be in the presence of such majestic creatures and feel anything but lonely yet she had to be a bit curious about what he was like when he wasn't witnessing the wonders of the world he'd carved out.

She hoped silently that he was happier now. Even though the thought of him not needing her company made her heart ache, the fulfilled smile curving at the corners of his mouth deserved to be seen.

"Yeah," she finally agreed, keeping her eyes fixed forward. "They're definitely quite the team."

He nodded, offering a quiet smirk as he seemed to swallow the words she knew were sitting on the tip of his tongue. She was positive they had to be because she wanted to _say_ them almost as much as she hoped to _hear_ them.

_So are we._

###### 

"Suppose you've got what you need?"

His voice was slightly startling as Emma flinched against the cushions of his leather couch, peering behind herself at the man who'd played research partner alongside her all day. He was standing in the lowlight of the kitchen, stirring some pot on the stove that simmered quietly beneath the efforts of a wooden spoon. It smelled heavenly, the aroma rich and heady as it pulled her out of her half assed typing trance. She caught a quick glimpse of a variety of spices lined up along the counter, some uncapped as they helped create the wonderful scent filling her senses. She wasn't really sure what he was cooking, but the several cutting boards layered with fresh vegetables were evidence of just how much work he had decided to put into it. She couldn't help but smile subtly at him as she wondered if he'd be doing this if she wasn't present.

Something told her he might not take the time to undertake such detailed work if he was only cooking for one. It was a solemn thought - one she didn't like and she tucked it away quickly behind the sadness it made her feel.

She still wasn't sure why she'd agreed to come back to his house for dinner. The lodge just across the island had her reservation and she would have had plenty of time to round up something to eat at one of the small inland bistros. He'd teased initially that it was ' _part of the all inclusive package he provided only to his most esteemed guests'_ \- nothing short of a charming _lie_ , of course - but there had been something quite genuine about the way he'd offered it. It was almost like he truly just wanted to spend more time with her. Accepting his proposition had been unplanned but she'd convinced herself that he was a good resource to have around while writing her little report.

Well, assuming _that's_ what she'd be doing. She'd gotten very little accomplished on that front, but with a harbor view of the sunset and the somewhat frequent glances of him over her shoulder, it was very hard to focus.

"I think so," she answered, finally closing her computer and setting it on the coffee table before rising from the sofa. "I didn't realize that the low salmon population was having such a drastic impact. I guess you were right about seeing it firsthand."

"Hmmm," he smirked with a nod. "I _do_ love being right, though I wish it didn't come at the expense of the animals. There's some new protection programs and fishing restrictions in debate right now so hopefully we'll see some positive results from that soon."

"Well, you might have to fill me in on how that goes," Emma replied, raising an eyebrow as she leaned on the high countertop across from him. "It would make an interesting follow-up article."

"Aye," he confirmed, holding the spoon up to his lips to taste with a wink. "Happy to help, Swan."

His hands were downright hypnotizing as she slid onto a bar stool to watch his efforts. He moved so _precisely_ \- tapping the side of the salt shaker as he seasoned their food, carefully retrieving two bowls from the nearby cupboard, holding his palm over the burner to test the heat rising off the stovetop. Emma found herself staring a little harder than necessary, her tongue grazing her lower lip as he located a silver corkscrew in one of the drawers and selected a bottle of wine from the wall rack near the fridge. She fully noticed then that he'd changed clothes, a pair of well worn jeans trailing down to his bare feet while a plain gray tee covered his chest. It was layered with a buttoned dark blue flannel shirt that looked extremely soft and Emma felt her fingertips ache a bit at the desire to see if it truly was. A silver chain of some sort dipped down under the neckline of the cotton and she couldn't help but wonder if such a trivial piece of his attire was more than _just_ that. There were, after all, _many_ things she'd come to notice about this man that she'd never seen during their past interactions - _or_ arguments.

"It's a nice place you have here," she commented, beginning to glance around the room and noticing the nautical theme sparsely decorating the space. "Quite the home away from…. _well_ , everything."

"Something against solitude, love?"

"Not at all," she shook her head, watching him pour her a glass. "I just never imagined that the guy who used to lecture in front of hundreds of people at a time would like being alone so much."

"Ah, _well_ ," he laughed with a slight shrug, sliding the tumbler across the counter to her. "I suppose I like the sway of the sea and the alone factor is just a part of my choice that I have to tolerate."

"It's a big change from the life you used to lead," she returned. "I mean, at least from what I can tell."

"Aye, it is," he agreed, taking a swallow from his own glass and letting his tongue swipe across his lower lip. "I like to think there was a reason for it though. The job I do here isn't at all like what I was doing in the city, but I'm working in the natural environment of these animals - even if I'm often playing tour guide while doing so. Every day is different, Swan, and I can walk out on that dock with absolutely no _clue_ as to what I might see once I'm out on the water. It's almost poetic in a way. There's the strangest type of beauty in that kind of unpredictability."

He gave her a sort of boyish half smile, one that warmed her right down to her mutually sea loving soul. His eyes were a darker blue than they'd been earlier in the summer sunlight, their seriousness making her wonder just how deep his affections actually ran. One thing she was certain about was that she'd known _very_ few people to be as honest as he was with her - and such transparency was something she sure as _hell_ never expected from Killian Jones.

"Yeah," she grinned, thinking back to their afternoon on the boat. "I know what you mean."

###### 

By the time the bottle was empty, darkness had surrounded them and Emma was having a truly difficult time remembering why she'd been so against the idea of boarding the boat with him that afternoon. The dinner he'd served her on the deck - the one he'd spent his first summer refinishing - had been phenomenal and the conversation they'd sunken into was uncharacteristically comfortable as Emma had relaxed in the white wooden chair that matched his. They didn't speak of her life in the city or the work he'd so suddenly left behind, but they talked endlessly about the waves and the whales who'd returned with them.

"So you mean to tell me that you're willing to give up a life of _unprecedented_ academia for days like today?"

"Absolutely, love," he nodded, taking another drink of his second glass of wine. "You mean to tell me you wouldn't?"

He cocked his head sideways, putting on that knowing expression as he waited for her response. Emma snuggled back into the black and red plaid quilt she'd borrowed from his couch as she let her mind debate a moment. She could see the way he was daring her to be honest before he glanced back out at the darkening bay. Maybe it wasn't wise to be so open with him in such oddly intimate circumstances, but perhaps he deserved a truthful response. After all, he'd _always_ been that way with her.

"I….don't know," she said after a moment. "Letting go of your entire life just to go chase whales seems like a pretty big sacrifice. For a guy who studies some of the most social animals in the world, you've _kind_ of renounced society up here, Jones."

"Perhaps I had to travel out of the city to find company that's as emotionally evolved as _I_ am," he taunted with a quick wink. " _Not_ that the comradery I had before was all bad."

"Mmmm," she glared teasingly. " _Right_ …."

His eyes hinged on the distant water as he squinted, looking for something she didn't need to ask about. There had been a boyish glint in his eyes all day and well into the night. It was a feeling she'd experienced since the moment they'd seen the pod from only meters away and her sight followed his as she wondered if observing the whales would merely be a one - well, _two_ time thing.

"You know, the native people of the Pacific Northwest-" he explained, pausing to pull the silver chain over his head. "-call them 'blackfish'. They're a symbol of powerful strength and loyalty that some believe to be the spirits of hunters who've passed on. Wolves of the sea they say."

He stared down at the pendant dangling on the end of the necklace, running his thumb across it with a smirk before holding it out for her to see. The silver circle was flat and a bit weathered, but as Emma looked closer with help from the dull lantern light, she noticed the engraved picture - the Native American orca symbol she'd seen once in a book at the university library. Her thumb pressed softly against it as she wondered about the legend it held and the man she could _probably_ persuade to tell it to her.

It was one she was fairly certain she _already_ knew, but hearing him speak was soothing - and well, a _bit_ spellbinding.

"It's beautiful," she commented quietly. "I've never seen one like this."

"Hmmm," he hesitated, looking at her with a sweet seriousness. "You should keep it."

"Killian - _no_ ," she retorted, shaking her head as she blinked rapidly. "I couldn't. I mean, it's _yours_ -"

"Calm _down_ , Swan, I'm not proposing," he laughed with a smile - _that_ smile. "It's merely a gift for someone who I know might appreciate it as I do. I can always get another."

"Oh, _can_ you now?"

"Aye, love," he nodded, doing that flirtatious wink thing again. "It was a gift from one of the chiefs of a nearby tribe. He's been helping a lot with consistent identification of the whales during migration times. I'll have to mention your work to him. I'm sure he'd be happy for a mutual enthusiast to have such a talisman."

He wasn't to be argued with in such a truthful moment, his deep blue eyes kind and inviting despite the lack of light surrounding them. Thinking back briefly, Emma found she couldn't recall the last time she'd received something so thoughtful and personal - or if she ever _actually_ had.

"Well….then _thank_ you," she grinned, holding tight to the pendant as she studied the symbol. "You know, my dad always said it was a 'momentous omen' to see them - a warning that something important was about to happen."

"Mmmm," he mused while arching his eyebrow. "You believe that then?"

He scratched softly at his thick beard, swirling the liquid in his glass as a certain sort of tension took hold between them. Emma bit her lip as she considered him and allowed herself to acknowledge the strange sense of chemistry they possessed. It always seemed to linger there in these inquiring moments, making her think perhaps it had always been part of this complicated dynamic they shared. She was in the middle of this enlightened wondering when she heard that well known distant call of the animals they'd seen earlier that day. The low hum and subsequent whistles were barely audible, but the muffled noise brought her to her feet. She peeked back at him with a surprised smile before she set the necklace down and ventured toward the edge of the wood planks, holding onto the railing with closed eyes to absorb the longing sounds as the borrowed quilt kept her warm. She noticed the way he joined her for the view - even as dark as it was - before she elected to share her answer.

"I do," she admitted, looking over at him in a tentative fashion. "We all have to believe in something, right?"

She caught a glimpse of the endearing disbelief on his face before closing her eyes again, letting her mind focus momentarily on the fading echoes coming from the shallow sea. It was almost like a song - one she could listen to over and over without _ever_ tiring of the notes.

"Nature is a fair thing to put your faith in," he commented quietly, his arm brushing hers. "It astounds when other things disappoint."

"Hmmm," she said, peeking sideways at him while tightening the blanket around her body. "Like what?"

"Work, life, love-" he listed before matching her stare. "-and at times, people I suppose. But then again, _you're_ here….so perhaps I'm wrong in that conclusion. I honestly didn't think you'd show."

"I'm glad I changed my mind," she admitted with a near silent sigh. "I….well, I'd kind of planned on avoiding you on this trip."

"I figured you might," he chuckled lowly. "Though I'm glad you chose otherwise, I must say I'm wondering what's changed your mind."

There were a _thousand_ answers she could give him in a conversation like this - the sort of talk where silent apologies and a heated suspense seemed to thicken the air. He turned to face her and she followed almost instinctively, reaching up with a cautious sigh and without any real reason to run a careful thumb over the scar under his eye. He'd told her about it once - the faded evidence of a fishing mishap when he was younger. The event had left its reminding mark there on his cheek and the feel of it beneath her touch was unexpected, but as she pulled away, his vulnerable look her caring caress left behind made her heart beat a _little_ harder.

"I guess I just had to know. I needed to see if you were…. _happier_ now. I wanted to see if….you missed it."

He tilted his head to the side, pressing his lips together before he reached for her hand. The way he brought it up between them with the fixation of his deep blue gaze was almost confusing, but the gentle kiss he laid over her fingers prompted her palm to rest on his chest without thought.

"Were you perhaps curious as to whether I miss _you_ , Emma?"

The way he said her name made her body vibrate as she drifted toward him, falling a little more into his space until her forehead leaned lightly against his. She wasn't sure whether she wanted such a longing admission, but one thing was now abundantly true - she wanted _him_.

"Because I do."

A rush of adrenaline moved through Emma's body as she tried to process his response, but the opportunity was cut short rapidly as his tentative lips found hers. The kiss was diligent and passionate in a way that was so characteristic of _everything_ he did. She felt the subtle breeze drifting across their space ruffle his hair and tangle hers as his hand took hold of her cheek, coaxing her closer as his mouth explored hers. Letting her fingers dig gently into the fabric of his shirt, Emma let him shift their positions so his back bumped against the railing - the one she'd been leaning on only moments ago.

The scene was surreal as his fingertips stroked her jaw and she let herself drown in the efforts of his certainly skilled lips, the soft quilt that had been keeping her warm not needed anymore as it fell from her arms. She'd wanted this for _so_ long and it wasn't just because of the helpless crush she'd developed on this intelligent, intense, _insanely_ good looking man several years ago. _No_ , she wasn't kissing him because of basic attraction. She was kissing him because she _needed_ to and because there couldn't possibly be words to describe _just_ how she felt about him in that instant. She didn't know how his touch could be so calm while being so perfectly demanding, but Emma resolved her decision quickly when his lips began trailing from her ear down to her collarbone.

If this one kiss could summon such a sea of desire between them, she couldn't wait to see how he might be able to make them _drown_ in those waves.

" _Emma_ …."

Her name came in the form of a mumble against her neck as his free hand slid down her back, pressing lightly between her shoulder blades and back around to hitch her leg against his waist. His tone was low and permissive, his accent wrapping roughly around the syllables of his plea as his teeth grazed her throat. A tender kiss followed his teasing action and her mouth fell open with a barely audible gasp - one that definitely _affected_ the man who was worshipping her like nobody else _ever_ had.

Feeling his hot breath on her skin and his strained denim beneath her quickly made her realize the million different things she could do with that wanting desire - and like hell if she wasn't going to try a _few_ of them.

Letting the hypnotic kiss reignite, Emma allowed her grip on his collar to dissolve into her hand's anxious fumbling over the flannel's difficult buttons. She whimpered stubbornly as she fought with them, a reaction that made him smile against her mouth. She nipped at his bottom lip while he finished the task for her, the shirt falling open and off his arms so she could divest him of the gray material he worn underneath. She watched his eyes glance down at her hands as they teased the thick dark hair on his chest before he pulled a line of kisses down along her jaw.

God, he was good at _that_ \- and she couldn't help but ponder how his talented lips might feel elsewhere.

She let herself focus on that thought - the idea of his mouth moving down the expanse of flushed skin between her breasts or how his tongue might feel as it traced her hipbone - while he shoved her jacket off her shoulders. It hit the deck without a sound and his grip tugged firmly on her shirt, pausing their kiss as he yanked it over her head. His hands fell to her hips and he pulled her closer, groaning softly when she rutted lightly against him. She knew the wood railing must be digging into his back, but she _needed_ him naked. Kissing away the scratches that might be found as a result was something she wouldn't mind taking care of later.

"Bloody hell," he breathed, grunting as she tugged hard on his belt. "Emma, _love_..."

The buckle hit the deck with a thump as they both worked on getting rid of the other's remaining clothes. Emma let herself get lost in his lips while his fingertips outlined the lace she wore beneath her jeans and she moaned softly as he pushed it to the ground. The sensation of his bare skin pressing hot against hers was intoxicating in a way she didn't know to be possible, but as he pulled her leg back up around him, she wanted to feel the multiple other ways he could blur her reality.

" _Swan_ ," he paused, his hands continuing to explore her skin while his lips hovered over hers. "Are you…. _do_ you….want-"

" _Yes_ ," she cut in, digging her fingernails into his scalp as she lifted onto her toes. "I want you. _So_ ….much, Killian."

He pushed into her slowly, letting her sink down on him at a torturous pace. He braced his legs skillfully as she wrapped her own tight around his waist, the angle creating a firm friction as he started to thrust. He pushed her upward a bit, maintaining his position as her toes met the railing. The slight nod and fiery stare he gave her before continuing his motion prompted her to station her feet on the wood beam. She noticed instantly how much control it gave her when he moved, his hips snapping forward as she slid back down onto his hard length. The unexpected position gave her leverage while still allowing him to go deeper, hitting that spot that made her see even _more_ stars than just the ones in the night sky.

"Oh…. _yes_ , I-" she gasped, her voice needy and full of lust. "-that's good. That feels so…. _good_."

" _God_ , Emma," he groaned, his hands gripping her ass. "So good when you ride me like this, love."

"Killian, _oh_ ….I need….I _need_ -"

"I know what you need, love," he replied, rutting faster as he moved even deeper. "Like this?"

"Yes! God…. _yes_ ," she cried, biting her lip. " _Right_ there…."

"You are so _beautiful_ , Swan," he told her, lowering his tongue to her breast. "Could watch you for hours like this."

She certainly wasn't opposed to the idea - sore legs and strained voice be damned. He was nothing short of sexy in the shadowy light of the distant lantern, his torso chiseled and his biceps strong as he pounded up into her. She rocked against him while following the pattern of his heaving breath and it took an almost embarrassingly short amount of time before she was pressing down hard on his deep length, waiting to shatter in his arms.

" _Killian_ ….so close…."

" _Yes_ , love," he exhaled, slamming in and out with unreal stamina. "I want you to…. _need_ you to come, darling."

"With you," she begged, tightening her arms around his neck. "I want you to-"

"Tell me when," he nodded as his forehead rested against hers. "Need to feel you, love."

" _Yes_ ….n-now….now!"

He moved up then down twice more before he grunted loudly, pulsing inside her as she fell apart above him with a loud and nearly echoing moan. They rode out the waves of euphoria as the actual waves a short distance away washed up onto the shore, the night sea mirroring their dwindling rhythm. He fell to his knees after a moment, reaching to pull the thick blanket around them before laying down on the wood surface. Their piled clothes provided an awful excuse for a pillow, but in such a sated moment, he seemed willing to make do while she did the same with his bare chest.

" _Gods_ , love."

She nearly laughed at his comment, but with energy in such short supply, she opted to snuggle against his skin instead. It was a fair trade as she took in the familiar scent of him - the freshness of the sea and that woodsy, tantalizing wildness that was all Killian. She didn't mind the slightly damp state of his flesh, knowing full well that she just as tinged with exertion.

" _Gods?_ As in more than one?"

"Aye," he replied, still a bit out of breath. "Definitely."

Laying on the solid planks of the deck wasn't exactly the coziest thing she could think of, but the way her held her close convinced her it wasn't the worst either. His arms were warm and protective around her still quite boneless body, almost as if he was scared she might slip away. Breathing a deep sigh as he toyed with a long strand of her hair, Emma wondered it if was possible to capture a moment like this and submit it to memory. She'd done so earlier with her camera when they watched the whales breach the water and while that scene had been magical, it was nothing as heartstopping and soothing as this. Feeling him press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, she decided silently to let herself hold onto the man beneath her while a light slumber overtook her. The consistent current he'd created in her mind was perhaps a bit treacherous, but if she could trust anyone to help keep her head above water, it was definitely this wildly wonderful man.

###### 

Waking up with the sunrise was strange and quite frankly unexpected given the strenuous night and _very_ early morning they'd had. The blankets surrounding her were foreign as were the numerous pillows, but a slight warmth lingered on the sheets next to her, reminding her instantly of just how hot his naked body had felt pressed against hers.

Emma sat up, letting her mind focus as she remembered the night - their openly candid conversation, the confessing deep kiss, the calculated movements of his hips, and the way he'd all but braced her against the glass door after round one while he fumbled with the handle. She flashed back to the way she'd anchored her palm against that same transparent surface, letting her scorching touch fog the glass while she'd shivered at the touch of his tongue moving between her thighs. She glimpsed his dresser in the room's corner, recalling the way he lifted her to perch on the top of the piece of furniture while knocking several books and magazines - including one with her most recent article - to the ground. He'd been so attentive and caring over the course of the evening, ever the conscientious scholar as he studied her like some new subject that he wanted desperately to know more about.

It was enough to make her blush furiously while pulling the fluffy comforter off his bed and wrapping it around her shoulders as the weak rays of dawning sunlight filtered inside. She wandered curiously toward the double glass doors leading out to the wraparound deck and she was about to wonder where he was when she heard what sounded an awful lot like a harmonica.

Of _course_ he'd have such an obscure talent - and it was quite likely that he probably looked _far_ too attractive in the process of demonstrating it.

Emma leaned in the doorway, shivering slightly as the morning mist blew across the surface of the sea. He was sitting in the white deck chair, a pair of baggy sweatpants covering his legs though he was barefoot and missing his shirt. She bit her lip as she contemplated where exactly that piece of flannel had ended up after she'd removed it the night before. Neither of them possessed the strength to retrieve any of their discarded clothes from the deck once they'd found themselves tangled in his sheets and she'd since been forced to borrow a shirt from him as consequence.

Something told her he _might_ not mind this particular ramification.

"Hey you."

His greeting was accompanied by a sweet, uncomplicated smile - one that made things feel blissfully right. She let her head tilt sideways against the doorframe as she considered him against the backdrop of the still slightly dim harbor. He set the harmonica down, beckoning her closer with a simmering stare and a widening grin. A laugh escaped her as she shivered slightly before stepping out onto the deck.

"Hey," she said softly, letting his hands guide her down into his lap. "So the harmonica, huh?"

"Aye," he smirked, kissing her cheek gently as she cuddled into his naked chest. "Did I wake you?"

" _You_ didn't," she answered with an arched eyebrow. "But the Free Willy theme song you were just playing kind of did."

"Ah - _that_ ," he chuckled, tickling her ribs. "I guess it seemed….appropriate?"

"Hmmm," she countered as her fingernails scratched his thick scruff. "I suppose it is."

"I'm never going to be able to outwit you when it comes to anything regarding those whales, am I, Swan?"

"Probably not," she said after a moment, smiling wickedly. "But it's cute that you keep trying."

"I'm nothing if not persistent, love," he retorted. "I believe I've made that fairly obvious."

He kissed her sweetly, his lips lingering with a promise she wanted to test. Being here with him in the quiet of the seaside had taught her to feel again in many of the ways she'd forgotten. The way he was looking at her made her want to hold onto this - and she had to wonder if that's what he was hoping for as well. She'd come here for work and the whales, but she found herself wanting to stay for much more than just that.

"So, you're in this-" she started, brushing the hair off his forehead. "-for the long haul?"

"Well," he replied, his smirk as clever as always. "That's _another_ way of putting it."

She smiled into a resumed kiss, noticing the way his answer mirrored the taunting flirt he'd given her back at the docks. Emma allowed herself to melt into the bright blue of his sated gaze as their morning began to unfold with ideas of how they might be able to spend the warm day together - though they both obviously preferred the sea to factor into the equation. She tried not to think about leaving as they drank coffee on the deck, watching the sun peek through the low fog. She reminded herself not to pay mind to the idea again as her scarf blew in the wind on the boat while they shared a handful of knowing glances and a few heated kisses, one of which got a _little_ out of control when he abandoned the wheel of the still moving boat. The sound of his nervous laugh when he noticing the vessel floating wayward had made her skin tingle and the way he shook his head with a smile was all the distraction she needed.

When they anchored back at the docks just before sundown - sadly without locating the whales again although her focus had been elsewhere anyway - she finally allowed herself to feel the prodding pain of how difficult it was going to be to depart. She'd turned on her heel, watching him tie up the boat as she watched from the platform and it didn't take long for him to notice her sudden apprehension.

"Hey," he said softly, using a raised eyebrow and crooking gesture of his finger. "Come here."

She walked toward him with a defeated exhale, slightly amused at the way he jumped up onto the dock before pulling her into his arms. His hand found her cheek as he smiled, a sense of hope behind the soft stroke of his thumb across her skin.

" _Stay_."

Emma froze, tilting her head to the side with confusion. The word was unexpected and while it was exactly what she wanted to hear, the rational part of her mind quickly put up a fight.

"Stay?"

"Aye," he nodded. "Stay."

"Hmmm," she paused, leaning into his touch. "How would you propose I get away with that?"

"By telling whichever boss sent you up here that you've got more research you'd like to complete - _or_ by mentioning the fact that need the expertise of a man who'd like to spend a _little_ more time ravishing you. You could also throw in the fact that said man is truly having hell of a time allowing you to leave his sight."

"Mmmm," she laughed, finding her will to resist the offer quickly fading. "I suppose those are a _few_ ways I could put it."

He grinned at her surrender, bending down slightly to kiss her with every ounce of fervor she could fathom. Her world moved into a hazy state of spinning as his lips pressed hard against hers and Emma had to wonder how she'd ever imagined she'd be able to turn down the idea of a little while longer in his embrace. The submitting moment made her knees go weak as he lifted her, the action making her believe that remaining there for a while was just what she and her work needed.

He truly _did_ have a way with that.


	15. Hardly Ancient History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr back in April and I totally forgot I hadn't posted it here until a few people reminded me :) so I'm getting around to it now! Thanks for your patience - I'm sorry it took forever! Archaeologist AU that's rated M for some museum smut!

"Emma, we have a….well, a _slight_ problem."

Of _course_ they did. If it wasn't a chair shortage, it was a lighting issue. If it wasn't a glitch in the sound system, it was the fact that the hors d'oeuvre menu wasn't allergen free. Over the past twenty four hours, much of what could have gone wrong certainly had and though Emma loved her new assistant, she could not hear about another issue with the guest list or that the banner in the museum entryway had fallen down in that end-of-Jurassic-Park style _again_.

The look on the girl's usually very chipper face told her that though it might not be a Tyrannosaurus Rex sized issue, it definitely wasn't a slip up that would be as entertaining as Michael Crichton's book turned epic movie. Emma tried to remind herself that no matter how disastrous the night could possibly be, at least nobody would get eaten by a Velociraptor. Well, _hopefully_ not.

"A slight problem _meaning_ -" Emma repeated, taking a steadying breath. "-it's one you can take care of, right?"

"Well, uh, I don't technically _have_ experience handling ancient artifacts," Ruby explained, squeezing her clipboard tightly. "But the guy who was going to finish setting up the display with the, _uh_ ….the pottery and basket stuff….well, one of the researchers needed him for something-"

"Okay, _okay_ \- I got it," Emma confirmed, effectively cutting off the poor girl's rambling. "A little minor set up needed. Is that all, Ruby?"

The girl nodded though she did pair it with a muttered 'for now' as she took off in the direction of the caterers. Opting to ignore what was hopefully a false prediction, Emma grabbed a champagne flute from the nearest tray and downed it fast. Nothing was going to mess up this night - _not_ if she and a few glasses of liquid courage had anything to say about it.

She'd spent hours working out every single little detail for the opening of the new exhibit - every little _trivial_ thing from parking overflow to which overzealous font should be used for the brochure. It had been a tireless and droning effort at times, but having the opportunity to host the revamped _Mummies Of The World_ exhibit wasn't something a rookie museum director was offered everyday. It was a career making move and one she'd lobbied hard on, something about the elaborate artifacts taking her right back to her former days of digging up history in the actual archaeological field.

She'd traded that in for a set of high heels and brushed up on her negotiating skills not even a year ago, but it didn't mean she couldn't indulge a memory or two. Her eyes wandered over the photographic evidence behind the glass and she imagined the stories that the faded clothes and preserved remains might tell. The old habit of getting lost in that world made her smile and she continued to do so as she checked over the various setups in the room.

It was _beautiful_. It was the display of overly hard work and the hours of endless caffeine and politics she'd endured. It was more than she had allowed herself to believe it might be and the space around her slowed momentarily as success set in. Her eyes closed briefly as she took the first of what would surely be many deep breaths - and it escaped her much quicker than she'd planned the _second_ she turned around.

"Emma Swan," his voice crooned, the accent melting her right into the tile floor underfoot. "Fancy meeting you here, love."

She wanted to smack her head against the case of arrowheads she'd just helped put out for display. Her head spun as she tried to figure out how she had ignored the possibility of this little interaction while planning her evening. It was the opening of an exhibit he'd contributed heavily to - of _course_ he'd be there.

Her nervous yet defiant stare settled on him as his achingly blue one pondered her. It was totally and frustratingly him - Dr. Killian Jones, the _bane_ of her archaeological existence.

It was just beyond annoying that he had to look so handsome. His choice of clothing was fairly simple but ruggedly sexy still somehow - well fitted tan pants, a dark navy blazer that was devastatingly fitted, and a light blue button down shirt that was _definitely_ buttoned down _quite_ generously. Damn that dark hair on his chest and the way it peeked out of his collar - it was a part of him had always tempted her.

Then again, there was very little about this man that didn't pull her in - as much as she'd spent years denying it. His tanned skin and thick stubble made it look liked he'd been quickly ripped from the necropolis recovery project - one recently undertaken in Egypt that she knew he was part of - so he could attend the event she'd been selling her soul to for months. His hair was longer, flipping outward against the back of his neck and falling heavy across his forehead. The sun clearly hadn't bothered it as it remained that dark color she wanted to thread her fingers through.

 _Wait_ \- what? She wanted no such thing. She wanted to enjoy the evening as far away from this infuriating, arrogant, absolutely drop _dead_ handsome man of history. Yes, _that_ was what she wanted. No, that's what she _needed_.

"Jones," she started, forcing her voice to be even and at least a little disinterested. "You're here."

"Indeed I am," he grinned, sauntering forward slowly in those canvas sneakers he had the audacity to wear. "But I don't even get a 'it's nice to see you' or a 'I'm glad you made it'? Maybe even a little 'I missed you so much and I've waited _ages_ for this moment'?"

Emma couldn't help the way her anxious gaze shifted into a glare. _God_ , he was such a cocky idiot - well, _usually_.

"I've been told it's wrong to lie, Killian."

"Hmmm," he mused, leaning in and lowering his tone. "Could have fooled me."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You seem to have gotten rather skilled in the field of dishonesty since I saw you last," he continued, folding his arms and giving her a knowing stare. "Pretending you're happy here with organizing galas and sweet talking donors instead of being on the road doing the actual job like you used to."

"You mean the job _you_ do," she replied, tilting her head. "Sounds more like _you_ are the one missing _me_."

"Maybe I do," he quipped. "Does that surprise you, Swan?"

His eyes danced with a certain type of mischief - a sort that wasn't safe for the extremely public circumstances they were currently in. She'd experienced that look far too many times during the years she'd traveled the globe in pursuit of pieces of the past that begged to be reassembled. Her own degree in anthropology with sub disciplined work in Egyptology and cultural studies had opened a door to many excavation opportunities, but somehow it seemed that Killian _always_ had a bigger connection than she did.

During the six years Emma spent sorting out artifacts all over the planet, he seemed to always find a way to end up wherever she was. When she'd assisted with testing the ink used on a set of restored Herculaneum scrolls, he was suddenly fluent in Latin. When she had the chance to analyze the scans performed to see what really killed Ramesses III, he seemed to be to go-to guy on forensic anthropology. He constantly took it upon himself to jot down little tidbits on her notebook and repeatedly moved the most efficient industrial sized fan away from her workspace to his own without asking but while _grinning_. No matter what sort of work she was involved in, he was constantly there taking pictures over her shoulder for documentation or correcting her brush technique.

It was exasperating and even a bit enraging at times to be incessantly undermined by this jackass paleo-whatever the _hell_ he was, but when a guy who was present for the discovery of Titanosaur and continued to be a well known consultant on the life of King Tut wandered onto the dig site, nobody really questioned his expertise. In fact, that kind of knowledge seemed to invite a different sort of inquiry - the academic kind that had permitted him to stick around _much_ longer than she wanted.

It _really_ didn't help that he did all of it with that same handsome smirk he was currently wearing in the low lighting of the museum gallery. She'd been great at warding off that look of longing he was now offering years ago - well, until that one _singular_ time when she'd failed _miserably_ in that regard. She forced her eyes to blink rapidly as she snapped away from that hazardous type of reminiscing. _Not the time or place_ , she thought as she watched him bite his bottom lip.

"Nothing you do or say is _ever_ a surprise," she said, rolling her eyes. "Don't you have somewhere to be, Killian?"

" _Ah_ , it's 'Killian' now, huh? What happened to-" he taunted, arching his eyebrow. "-Dr. Jones? You know, I _did_ earn that title, Swan."

"Yes, I know you did," she groaned. "But before I'm subjected to hearing more about your qualifications, I'm going to tell you I'm busy and you're going to go do….whatever it is that you came here to do."

"Hmmm," he started as his blue gaze seemed to craft an innuendo. "Perhaps I'm already in the process of going about that."

God, did he really have to be so obscene?! Flirting with this man wasn't penciled into her rather packed agenda and Emma knew she had to keep herself from encouraging him.

"Oh, really?"

Her retort was weakly sarcastic and she knew it the moment she allowed her vision to lock back onto his. The space around her blurred instantly as his bold stare considered her. She tried not to let his over expressive mouth captivate her so much, but the things his tongue could do were part of a memory she'd visited _many_ times over the past several months.

"Yes, really," he confirmed with a breathy reply. "Although I can assure you that this little exchange is merely the start of my to-do list, _darling_."

His hand lifted, his fingers grazing her cheek as he brushed away a rogue strand of hair that had escaped from the messy braid she'd woven a few hours earlier. The touch of his barely calloused thumb as it stroked the space under her cheek was unexpected and she closed her eyes at the feel of it. Her body tingled as she fought for her much needed voice and the warning it would hopefully provide.

" _Killian_ …."

"Busy - I _know_ ," he nodded, his hand falling to the braid trailing down her shoulder as he tugged it softly. "I must say I like this though. Definitely how I remember you."

"That's not who I am anymore, Dr. Jones," she said with a sigh as she swatted his twirling touch away. "But it's good to see _you_ haven't changed."

"I guess we'll see about that," he replied, taking her hand and placing a ridiculously chivalrous kiss against her knuckles. "For the record though - I think I prefer 'Killian'."

He left her with a wink and the trademark curve of his grin, his pants doing him every _bit_ of justice as she watched him watch away. He was almost instantly approached by a several local professors who offered their anxious handshakes, but the final glance he threw her direction confirmed one thing - Dr. Killian Jones was there to do _much_ more than share his research. God, she was going to a need a stronger drink before she started to think about what else he was there to study.

###### 

For the millionth time in roughly an hour, Emma was extremely glad she'd opted not to be the discussion moderator during the meet and greet session. It was one of the questions she'd been thrown in between setting up arrangements for sound equipment and she'd waved it off fast, knowing full well that she'd be far too occupied to do so. As she watched one of the tech guys clip a microphone to Killian's shirt from a distance, she tried to remember just how busy she was.

"Thank you all for coming - we are so excited to see so many people here this evening," Dr. David Nolan, the museum curator, happily welcomed. "This is such an exciting event that we've been planning for quite some time and having the chance to finally share this elaborate collection of history with the public is something we've really been looking forward to."

Emma leaned against a nearby wall, momentarily pushing her hectic itinerary to the back of her brain as she watched the opening remarks. Her mind tried to focus on David's eloquent words as he outlined the details of the exhibit's contents, but her eyes had other interests - namely the view of Killian sitting casually with his one foot propped up on the opposite knee and the side to side motion of his hand as he toyed with the microphone.

God, _why_ did he have to do that?

"I'd like to take a moment to thank Emma Swan, our director, for the many hours of work she's put in on the culmination of tonight's opening-"

Applause cut in on her boss's speech, the clapping causing a slight blush from Emma as she folded her arms nervously. She didn't dare look to the man she'd been secretly admiring before, but she could feel his eyes burning a hole right through her. The noise quieted after a moment and she snuck a peek at him only to find that unnerving smirk and fiery blue gaze. _Damn him,_ Emma thought with a shaky breath.

"We have some experts to welcome here tonight, including several people who've been a part of the amazing discoveries we'll have the opportunity to see here tonight," David continued, his hands braced on the podium. "We'd like to welcome Belle French, a renowned historian at Stanford University as well as Robin Locksley, a professor and field geologist from Dartmouth."

The crowd's cheers sounded again as David nodded toward the two esteemed guests with a grin, prompting them each to wave in greeting. They were both well known scholars in the academic community and as much as it was an utmost honor to have them present, the stupid idiot who'd been eyeing her all night was the man most people were truly impressed with.

"We are also very fortunate to have Dr. Killian Jones here with us," David smiled, his own giddiness at this particular guest's presence very obvious. "He's one of the leading paleontologists and cultural anthropologists in the field currently and he's also a highly respected Egyptologist who has worked on many mummy preservation projects over the past decade…."

Emma moved slightly out of sight, trying to spy with a bit more stealth as she listened to David read through Killian's commendable list of degrees from his long stint at Yale and the shorter one at Cambridge. She'd read up on him enough over the years to know just how intelligent he truly was - although it was something he reminded her of _often_ back when he'd been trying to get a rise out of her during her dig site days. Her eyes lit up with a memory and a smile tugged at her lips as she thought back to the last time she'd tried to put him in his place.

###### 

" _What the hell is your problem with me?"_

" _If the way you stormed in here is any indication, Swan," he glared, his stance defensive and unmoving as the trailer door snapped shut behind him. "It's definitely you who has a problem with me."_

" _You're right - I do," she snapped, yanking the fridge door open in search of a water bottle. "I have a huge issue with you thinking you know more about everything than anyone else! You think you can just strut onto whatever site you want and start telling people what to do, but I've got news for you, Jones - this is my project and not even close to yours."_

" _If I'd known my opinion was going to throw you into an academic tantrum, I might have never offered it," he replied, gritting his teeth cautiously. "So forgive me for trying to be helpful."_

" _If you want to help, you can get the hell out of here," she shot back with narrow eyes. "It would be the most helpful thing you could do actually."_

" _You know, Swan, I don't think that's what you really want," he laughed sarcastically, moving annoyingly closer. "I think you are merely afraid that there's someone here who might know a little more about the cultural anthropology of war."_

" _Oh, please, Killian," she scoffed as her body stiffened, his position suddenly very close. "You just want to stick around to see if you're right because if it came down to you being wrong, I'm pretty sure you couldn't handle it."_

" _Hmmm," he almost growled as his palm pressed against the wall and he caged her in his space. "Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it."_

###### 

Emma felt her cheeks go warm with the remembrance of that single heated instance. She could almost recall the exact solid, cobalt blue of his desperate gaze and she was almost _sure_ she wasn't imagining the way he'd taken to biting that bottom lip in between insults. He'd made her so flustered that by the time she flung open the door to the trailer, she couldn't even remember what he'd done to piss her off. It wasn't until he slammed that same door behind him, effectively closing them into a _very_ small arguing space that she really came unglued - in more ways than _one_. They'd been so close in such a defensive flash of passion that she had felt the sweat radiating off his body while she studied the damp texture of his shaggy hair. It had been shorter then but still sufficient enough to grip and twist between her needy fingers - and yes, she knew _that_ for a fact.

###### 

" _Come here," he choked out, his hands firm on her hips as he left a series of kisses down her neck. "We better….oh god, we need to hurry, Swan."_

" _I'm trying….just-" she gasped, yanking hard on the blue bandana he had hanging around his neck. "-god, why are you so….damn….sweaty?!"_

" _For the same reason you're so completely irritable right now, Swan," he groaned as he tore at the straps of her tank top. "It's the middle of the bloody summer on the coast of Greece and we….god, you're beautiful-"_

" _Killian, please….I want you….so much-"_

" _You have….to be quiet, love," he whispered raggedly, his mouth following the curve of her ear. "God, I wish I didn't have to say that-"_

" _Mmmm, me too," she gasped as she yanked his shirt over his head. "I don't want….to….be quiet, Killian…."_

" _Take these damn things off," he growled as his thumbs linked through the loops of her very short cutoffs, his rock solid rubbing tauntingly against her through the denim. "Bloody hell, Emma….let me have you."_

" _Killian - come on," she pleaded with a nod as she undid his belt and shoved his cargo shorts to the floor. "We don't have much time….and….and I want-"_

" _I know, love," he nodded as her remaining clothes disappeared from her body and he hitched her leg up around his waist as he anchored her against the trailer door. "I know what you need."_

###### 

As much as she hated to patronize that man and his know-it-all attitude, he proved in less than twenty minutes just how well he truly did understand her. Her spine tingled and she let her mind wander back to the strong feel of his hands holding her up and the way that first press of his hard length had made her shiver. The continued motion of his mouth along her jaw and down to her collarbone as he thrust in and out at that escalating pace made her wish desperately that they'd had _more_ than twenty minutes.

As she watched him now, observing the way his expression shifted between shades of serious and scholarly to almost seductive and sexy, Emma was reminded just how much she wanted to make up for that lost time. His accent wove between his carefully crafted answers to David's questions and the rugged timbre of his tone when he offered up words like 'stratigraphy' and 'assemblage'. The way his smirk curved one way or the other and the manner in which his eyebrow arched in animation seemed to push her back into their little game of cat-and-mouse that finally ended almost a year ago. Even more complicating were the looks he'd occasionally scan the crowd with - the ones that suggested he was searching for her.

"Dr. Jones, you've had the opportunity to be involved in several very prominent archaeological finds over the past decade," David started, leaning on the podium. "Is there a particular case that really stands out in your mind?"

Emma wasn't sure how it was suddenly possible, but at that exact instant, his eyes seemed to zero right in on her. He looked far away for a brief moment - almost like he was reliving those several weeks in Greece as well. It was a memory she'd returned to more than she dared admit - though she preferred to skip over the recollection of the look on his face when he'd found out she was leaving the project early to take the museum job. The very similar smile that appeared now was fleeting, but Emma caught it and she waited on pins and very pointy needles to see how he'd respond.

"During the time I've spent researching and excavating, I've been truly blessed so I feel it would almost be unfair to pick just one," Killian said cautiously. "I've found that the most important thing is to know when what you've found is a game changer - and there's actually been _very_ few times I've experienced that. It's those discoveries that open a whole new world of possibility that you should really appreciate."

Emma wasn't sure how long she stood there, trapped in an unbendable staring contest with the man she seemed to have quite the history with. His gaze didn't waver in the slightest as David carried on, sharing more facts and information about the displays open for observation. Eventually, applause filled the room and the spell between them broke. The tension snapped unexpectedly and Emma glanced around, suddenly noticing just how small the large event hall had become. She barely caught a glimpse of him standing when she bolted toward the door.

This exhibit had historical artifacts and mummies on loan from twelve other facilities and five different _had_ to be a way to bury herself in those facts while she avoided getting lost in those stupid blue eyes of his.

Emma spent the next several hours chatting up guests, mostly those who'd written checks in support of the evening. It was droning talk - the sort she'd indulged in much too recently over the time she'd spent orchestrating this whole thing - but it was better than the conversation she was avoiding with a certain doctor of history. _That_ was an interaction she wasn't prepared to participate in. Not on a night like this and perhaps not _ever_.

So why was her mind so adamant that she address it the _second_ she had a free moment? What the _hell_ had he meant by 'game changers' and 'new worlds of possibility'? Who did he think he was? She'd spent every ounce of sanity and professionalism she had organizing the arrangements for this exhibition, but once he'd shown up, she was suddenly twenty five and academically insecure again. Perhaps that's why she was always - well, _almost_ always - so irrationally angry with him. He was intelligent and by all accounts knew much more about every angle of anthropology than she probably ever would. Working at the museum had made her into her own expert of sorts and it was a place she'd gained respect away from his observant eyes. Emma sighed to herself as she stretched on her toes in search of a server, one who'd hopefully be carrying something from the bar. She glanced toward the large antique clock hanging overhead - 10:44. Only about an hour to go.

The guests started to filter out slowly, the volume of the room dwindling fast in a way that would allow her to be spotted more easily by the guy who'd been perplexing her all night and perhaps even before then. Maybe she had time to take in a light retreat before the end of night's inevitable workload piled on. She chanced a distant look at David who was enraptured in some discussion about medieval something or other and back to the analog time once more. She just might be able to get away with it. Striding quickly to the elevator and attaching the' door close' button in a continuous effort, she smiled to herself in relief. _B is for basement_ , she thought with a calm sigh.

###### 

There was something about the storage area on the lowest level of the museum that had always called to Emma. The whole space was like a mixed bag of a miniature museum as it housed items that were being restored or readied for display. She'd seen so many different sides of history in that singular location - intricately painted tribal masks, faded paintings, and even a fossil or two. _Dammit_ , she thought as her mind drifted toward paleontology. She wasn't supposed to be thinking about _him_ or his line of work.

The soft clicking of her heels led her through the dimly lit maze of artifacts as she soaked in the silence. Rounding the corner, her eyes fell on a familiar filing cabinet. She tried to tell herself it was a bad idea - that traversing the little archive of information she'd gathered about the efforts of the man who'd just stampeded back into her life wasn't the best way to spend her quiet time. Yet as she pulled the drawer open and sifted through the miscellaneous articles, Emma decided that this research might be a decent enough distraction.

Her thumbs danced over the folders, removing clippings from magazines and a scattered photograph here and there. She hadn't seen him in almost a year and that passed time had allowed him to fill up the file she was perusing with numerous achievements. Everything from excavating a wealth of multi thousand year old stone tools near Vancouver to the underwater study of a slave trade shipwreck - he'd truly had a resume that most scholars would kill for. She knew she was included in that list, even if admitting it wasn't something she'd do anytime soon.

Her stare lightened as her sifting touch landed on a file marked ' _Pylos, Warrior Tomb_ '. She took a slightly steadying breath before pulling it from the cabinet. This particular collection was about her most prominent historical find - and yes, that feat had very _much_ included the involvement of Dr. Jones.

She smiled softly as she skimmed the evidence of that time in her life - the newspaper bit announcing the discovery and naming her the lead researcher, the pictures of the jewelry and carefully forged weapons they'd uncovered, and the findings notebook he'd stolen several times. His all too perfect handwriting was set dark in black ink on the pages and hurried in several spots. It reminded Emma of the last conversation they'd had - one that had been rushed and incomplete.

###### 

" _Swan," he nearly yelled as he moved across the marked ground. "You're leaving?"_

" _Oh, uh….yeah," she nodded, barely looking up at him from her soil notes. "Tomorrow morning."_

" _But….why?"_

" _The museum job - Dr. Nolan called last night and said it's mine if I still want it."_

" _And you do?"_

" _Yes, Killi- I mean, Dr. Jones," she replied as she removed her gloves and tossed them onto a nearby table. "It's a great opportunity."_

" _To do what - sit in an office and plan events? Beg rich people for foundation money?"_

" _To make a name for myself," she bit back as she stopped in front of the trailer. "To build a life and have some roots for once."_

" _So you're just going to leave this project then," he sighed, shaking his head as he chanced an honest look at her. "Don't you even care about it….or anyone here?"_

" _I just….of course I care," she answered while folding her arms. "I just have to do what's best for me."_

" _Why are you so scared of staying, Emma?"_

" _I'm not scared-"_

" _But you are," he cut in, moving a little closer. "I think it's because you can see a possible future here….a happy one."_

" _Let me guess - with you?"_

" _I don't….maybe," he stammered, running an anxious hand through his shaggy hair. "Emma, you're talented and you love being here. Any fool can see that. Don't go just because of the other day-"_

" _Don't flatter yourself, Dr. Jones," she told him with a slight blush. "I told you that this is about what I want career wise and nothing else."_

" _The future you deserve and the one I think you really want is here, Emma," he almost pleaded. "You just have to be willing to go after it."_

" _No, Killian, it's not," she snapped. "We are digging up history - and the only thing I will ever find here is the past."_

###### 

She shuddered a bit at the recycled thought, trying to forget just how painful it had been to see him _want_ her to stay. She'd wondered so many times what her life would have become if she did - and maybe even what _they_ might have become. The weeks in Greece had been filled with so much irritated yelling and annoyed silence that she never got to tell him several of the things she truly wanted to say. She wanted to be honest. She wanted to be brave.

That seaworthy ship had set sail long ago though. She'd missed the boat in a manner of speaking.

"Drinking on the job seems like bad form, love," a familiar voice commented from behind her, prompting her to turn and face it. "I've never known you to take work so casually."

Of _course_ he'd find her with such annoying ease. Emma tried to steady her nerves as she allowed her attention to fall back on him. He'd rolled his sleeves up to his elbows since the last time she saw him, the blue fabric folded over carefully in that meticulous manner he always demonstrated. He looked tired and rightfully so - she'd heard all about the work he'd been up to in Egypt and it was obvious the heat plus the long hours were probably taking a toll on him. She started to wonder silently why he'd made such an effort to be at the exhibit opening given his state of burnout, but that answer was one she wasn't ready for.

Well, it wasn't like she _didn't_ already have an inkling. He didn't fly across the world just to discuss the weather.

"You're lucky I support your rather nonchalant style of management, Swan," he smiled, handing her a shorter glass of what was probably rum as he walked toward her. "Makes it a little easier to get you to have a drink with me."

"Keep dreaming, Killian," she sighed, shaking her head softly with a lack of surprise as she set the glass down on an antique nineteenth century table. "But having a drink together would imply that we've got something to talk about."

"You don't think we do?"

"Unless you'd like to tell me about Egypt-" she started, raising an eyebrow. "-then _no_ , we don't."

"That's something I'd be _happy_ to do," he smiled, taking a final swallow from his tumbler. "But first, I was hoping you might want to make a deal."

"A _deal?_ Who are you - Rumpelstiltskin?"

"As much as I appreciate the idea of being part of _some_ little fairytale of yours," he laughed as his forearm propped him up against a tall glass case holding an Aztec totem pole. "No, this doesn't involve the exchange of anyone's life for gold. In fact, this deal is more rooted in bronze."

Emma felt her breath hitch hard in her throat as his typical smirk let her know he'd noticed. Bronze was something they'd dealt in before back in Greece while excavating the ancient warrior's unlooted tomb. In fact, it was those sacred burial grounds that had led her to wanting to many _less_ sacred things to the man in front of her - that was, of course, if she didn't _kill_ him first.

She somewhat fortunately had let him live and now, as much as she didn't want to be, Emma was slightly curious about what he might be up to.

"Do _not_ lean on that," she warned before pulling him away from the fragile display. "I'd prefer you don't break anything with your overly confident attitude."

"Well if you wanted to get close to me," he teased, his hand falling to her hip. "You just have to ask, Swan."

"Killian - _stop_ ," she said, biting her lip as she fought to maintain an unaffected tone. "Just tell me what you want so I can get back to work."

" _Ah_ , rather dedicated still," he commented. "I've missed seeing you that way."

"Right," she deflected, rolling her eyes. "Start talking, Jones."

"Always business with you," he laughed, tilting his head toward the lower level unloading doors. "This way, love."

They strolled towards the open space where items transported from other museums were typically unloaded and a tall black case that was conveniently locked came into view. Emma raised an eyebrow as he sorted through his keys, his expression instantly matching hers when he found the piece of metal he was looking for.

"So you're going to bribe me with….a _mystery_ box?"

"I think we both know it takes a hell of a lot more than that, darling," he answered with the quick twist of the key. "I wouldn't be here to make a deal if I didn't have something I knew you might want."

An over dramatic flourish of his hand flipped open the top of the case and he turned it to face her. The way her lips parted was helpless and a soft gasp of astonishment met the air as she stared at the manner in which he was trying to persuade her.

It was the _sword_ \- the ivory handled blade they'd argued over back in Greece. She could remember his words like it was yesterday.

###### 

" _Swan, I can assure you that this man was of rather high importance."_

" _Men of this era were not buried with such exquisite weaponry, Killian," she bit back. "Finding this blade in this tomb could challenge a lot of what's already been determined about a vague civilization."_

" _Perhaps he just had an odd attachment to it," he remarked, tilting his head at her. "It's hardly a reason to question years of research."_

" _Can you just for once in your life admit that you might be wrong?"_

" _I'd rather not admit defeat in such uncertain circumstances, love," he smirked. "Let's let the historical facts decide."_

" _You're lucky that sword is considered extremely antique-" she groaned, staring him down. "-or I might try to drive it through you."_

" _No need for violence, darling," he quipped in return. "I mean you could have said something like 'when I jab you with my sword, you'll feel it'. Much more charming-"_

" _Shut up, Jones."_

###### 

She hadn't seen this particular item - the one that had intrigued her from the start of the dig - since she left the project site in lieu of her new path. The hilt was still intact though somewhat eroded, crafted in solid bronze with flecks of ivory. It had amazed her that the resting place of what was surely a brave man had been kept so securely undisturbed which riches such as this very blade right at his side. So many people had walked right _over_ the sacred site, but they'd been the ones to bring it back to the light.

There was something magical about it - and the way Killian was looking at her confirmed that he felt it too.

"Killian, how did you get this?"

"I'm _not_ a thief if that's what you're thinking, Swan," he smiled, carefully lifting the glass cover on the weapon's display case. "It's been on reserve at a university in Ohio - I've got a friend there who I've worked out an arrangement with."

"What are you-"

"I think the sword belongs here, Emma," he said, honesty in his words. "I thought about it quite a lot after you left and it's like you said - the project was yours."

"But I _left_ , Killian…."

"I know," he nodded, his recollecting gaze telling her just how much he'd been affected by her decision to go. "But you found it. It's only fair that your museum is the one to display it."

"I don't understand why-"

"Because you were _right_ , Emma," he said finally, moving to stand in front of her again. "I was an ass - a very arrogant and condescending one. I wanted to make sure you got to hear me admit it and give you something I know you will appreciate. After all, it's kind of what you wanted the entire time we worked together, right?"

"So this is you-" she swallowed with a half smile. "-laying down your _weapon?"_

"In a manner of speaking - yes," he laughed. "You could call it that."

"So do you mean to tell me that _this_ was your plan? You retrieved the most coveted item from that excavation, flew halfway around the world to be here tonight, and now you're going to just….leave it here for the museum to claim?"

"I figured it was the least I could do," he shrugged, biting his lip. "Though I won't deny having an ulterior motive or two."

"Ah, _there_ he is," she grinned. "So what else are you here for, Dr. Jones?"

"To tell you….I miss you-" he replied quietly, his words taking a moment to string together. "-and that I'm sorry I didn't come after you sooner."

"Killian-"

"No, Emma - _listen_ ," he almost begged. "I….I spent a long time avoiding the emotional part of life. I threw myself into my work and I let myself love what I do more than anything else. I never dreamed I'd ever move beyond that - that my love for history wouldn't be enough….at least, not until I met you."

His fingers drifted tentatively toward hers as they hung loosely at her sides. She flinched slightly at his touch, a reaction that made his eyes light up with a blue she instantly fell into. She let the simple feel of his hands lacing through hers tempt her lips to twitch into a smile, one he matched rather fast. She'd never wanted to stop running so badly in her entire _life_.

" _Emma_ ," he said gently. "Say something?"

"What took you so long?"

It took him a second to absorb her statement, but once he did, that million watt grin spread like wildfire across his face. He descended forward in a way she thought she might never experience again and his kiss pulled her back into the realm of wanting nothing more that Dr. Killian Jones.

"I'm sorry-" he mumbled against her mouth. "-but we dabble in archaeology, love. We both know that _certain_ things take their fair share of time."

"Yeah, _yeah_ ," she laughed, moving her hands to the back of his head. "Sounds like an excuse."

"Mmmm," he hummed as his eyes lingered on her slighly swollen lips. "No more of those."

His mouth found hers before she could conjure up a reply, his hands resting quickly on her hips as her fingernails scratched his scalp teasingly. He growled a low sound at that and the barely audible noise coaxed Emma's tongue into seeking his. He gripped her a little harder, trying to steer them away from the sword as the kiss turned needy. Killian stumbled a bit and the slight clumsiness became quickly contagious as Emma's feet steered her right into a restored shelf that housed several pieces of Native American pottery. They clanked softly against the wood, causing him to pause and his grin to widen.

" _Easy_ , love," his voice gasped, her hands fixed tightly on his shirt collar as his back bumped into a wood shelf so a few beat up and probably first edition encyclopedias tumbled to the floor. "You've heard the expression 'you break it, you bought it', right?"

"Just shut _up_ -" she snapped back, twisting the light blue fabric in her grip. "-and kiss me _now_."

"Hmmm," he grinned, his lips hit hers roughly before tracing the length of her neck. "Quite demanding tonight, aren't you?"

"I've found I, _oh_ ….have to be….with you," she returned as her fingers tangled quickly in his hair. "We both know how terrible you are…. _god_ ….at listening."

"I can assure you that that's _never_ been the case, love," he retorted, his teeth grazing her collarbone. "I've always been _quite_ attentive to the things I hear from you."

"Oh?"

He nodded as his fingertips skimmed her lower back, climbing the fabric of her dress to where he could pull down the zipper in that torturously slow fashion. His thumb shoved the material off one shoulder to expose bare skin that his lips immediately caressed. Emma let her head tilt backward as his teeth began to gently worry the space he'd just kissed, his pattern of nibbling and sucking pulling a soft whine from her throat. He was likely leaving a mark or two, but she didn't care - she _really_ didn't want him to stop.

"That sound-" he said, nipping once more as she let out the same sound again. "-tells me you're rather fond of what I'm doing."

" _Mmmm_ ," she hummed as the dress she'd chosen fell further down her body. "You think so?"

"I _know_ so, love," he confirmed, letting his lips continue a path to her breasts. "Much like, if memory serves, I know you like _this_ …."

His tongue swirled slowly, circling her nipple and then following the curve of her breast as she moaned a needy sound. Her grip tugged roughly on his thick tufts of dark hair as his firm hands wandered her skin and her dress fell to the floor. She was about to kick off her black heels when his palms pressed hard against the back of her thighs and he lifted her.

"Keep those on," he instructed, helping her brace her legs around his hips. "Where can-"

" _There_ ," she pointed, her finger directing him to a leather trunk that had been recovered from an Irish castle several years prior. "Just be careful."

His stride was calculated, his hold perching her gently on the fragile secured surface as unfastened his belt with impatient fingers. It fell to the ground with a thud, the red woven rug underfoot muffling the sound as she pulled his shirt open. The buttons that flew in multiple directions pelted off the items they hit and he growled against her mouth in response. He flipped the clasp of her bra and let the lace slip down her body while his fingers dipped between the fabric covering her aching center. Emma's moans were uncontrolled as she worked his shirt down his shoulders and started a slow drag of her fingernails through the thick hair covering his chest.

"Bloody hell, you're _wet_ ," he rasped as his fingers pressed firmly against her. "I've half a mind to take you…. _oh_ , right _here_. Are we going to get caught, darling?"

"N-No," she trembled. "No one comes down here but me. Do it….oh, _Killian_ …."

"Emma, _I_ ….I don't have….a-"

"It's okay," she assured him, silencing his talk of protection as she kissed him hard. "We don't need it. I just... _need_ you. I can't wait. It's-"

"Been too long," he gasped, his teeth pulling lightly on her lower lip as he tossed her underwear to the floor. "I know, love. I _know_. I want you….so _much_ , Emma…."

She nodded frantically, yanking his pants and boxer briefs down just enough as she crossed her ankles behind his back. He helped widen the space between her legs, pushing down on the tops of her thighs as he slid inside with a smooth thrust. He groaned a delicious sound as her arms held tight to his neck.

"Oh - _yes_ , love," he encouraged, his hips setting a steady pace. "I've needed you….for so…. _long_. I dreamt of you….of _this_ -"

"Me too," she breathed. "All the time."

"Oh yeah? _Tell_ me, darling…."

His speed moved up a notch as he pulled and pushed, dragging out and surging back in fast. Emma let her body shake against him as her eyes opened lazily to find that burning blue stare hinging on her every reaction. The near scream that escaped her made him thrust harder, causing a curse or three to leave her lips before he kissed her again.

"You don't have to be quiet, love," he reminded her, sucking on her neck as the volume of her moans increased. " _Tell_ me. Say it _louder_ , Emma."

"I wanted your hands…. _all_ over me," she admitted. "I imagined the way you'd feel inside me-"

"God…. _yes_ ….tell me how it feels."

"You're so _hard_ -" she answered, her fingernails leaving indents on his shoulders as he jerked forward even further. "-and deep. _Harder_ , Killian. Do it _harder_."

"God, Emma….you're so bloody _hot_ ," he grunted. "Scorching around me, love. What…. _god_ , what do you need?"

"Keep going," she replied, her muscles stiffening as his thumb found her center. " _Don't_ stop. Please don't stop-"

"Never," he promised, pushing deep inside her. "I want you to come. I want….to _feel_ you…."

" _Oh_ , Killan….so close. I'm so…. _god_ , so close. Will you come with me?"

" _Yes_ , love," he nodded, his forehead pressed against hers and his breath became even more unsteady. "Tell me when…."

Any control she had left dissolved as she rode him, rolling back and forth as much as possible. His hands were rough on her sides as he let himself squeeze her tight. His gaze was intent and piercing as his body teetered on the edge. His groaning and strong thrusts were suddenly too much and she let go with a sudden shout of his name.

"Killian! Now, oh…. _now_ ," she pleaded as she pulsed around him. "I'm…. _oh_ , god…."

"Oh, love, I can _feel_ you," he told her as he surged forward. "Emma, I'm going to-"

" _Yes_ , Killian….let go."

He grunted a sound she'd never heard before, kissing her as she helped quiet the noise while his tongue found hers. His hands cupped the sides of her face and his fingers flexed against her jaw while he pulsed inside her. He stilled quickly, emptying everything he had and riding the euphoria of the moment until they both weakened.

How she'd survived months without _that_ , Emma would _never_ know.

He stabilized his legs, elevating her and somehow striding backward until he lowered them to the ground. His back dropped against a pile of carefully woven and quite ancient quilts as his fingertips traced circles on her back. Emma wasn't sure how long her forehead rested against his shoulder, but as exhaustion threatened to overtake them, she forced herself to sit up.

If she was _ever_ going to lose this job, it wouldn't be like this - even if his hazy, crystal blue eyes were trying to tempt her otherwise.

"So about that deal-"

" _No_ , love," he smirked. " _That_ was not part of it."

"I guess that's good to know," she replied, still trying to catch her breath. "An added bonus I suppose."

"Aye, love," he nodded. "For both of us I'm hoping?"

"Yeah," she sighed, running a hand over her eyes. "God, I have to go back to work - and try to figure out how to explain my absence…."

"Mmmm," he answered, tilting his head slightly in response. "What if I told you that I _might_ have a way to get you out of that?"

"Well," she said cautiously. "I'd have to ask for an explanation."

"The ivory blade - that's your part of our agreement, Swan," he started, his eyes honest and hopeful. "But a deal should benefit _both_ parties, don't you think?"

"I've heard that's how it works," she agreed. "So what's your request?"

"I want you to come back with me-" he told her. "-to Egypt."

Her skin was still flush against his when she processed his request. She hadn't been expecting that. Hell, she hadn't been expecting _any_ of this. Yet as he stared at her in the low light of the storage area, his knees bent as he held her in his lap, Emma found herself wanting exactly what he did.

The odd irony of 'making a deal with the archaeological devil' wasn't lost on her, but if that's who he was, then she wouldn't mind burning with him for some span of eternity.

"Killian, I can't just _leave_ ," she replied, the rational part of her weakly chiming in. "I have a job….and responsibilities here."

"I know you do, love," he continued. "That's why I flew in earlier today to meet with Dave. I told him about the necropolis and mentioned that we'd been looking for a rather skilled Egyptologist - one with a _stellar_ knowledge of weaponry and such. He's agreed to put you on sabbatical for a few months if you're willing."

In true Killian fashion, he'd definitely thought through all the facts. They'd spent months apart, but in the pondering seconds of his request, Emma realized just how much he'd thought about her during that time. He really _had_ missed her - she could see every fraction of just how much in the way his careful view seemed to study her, the navy color of his irises enough to drown in. When she left for the museum job, it hadn't been the end - not even _close_.

In his own ridiculous way, he'd come back to _save_ her - from herself and from a life indoors where she'd loathe the past instead of discovering it. She knew what her answer was. She knew _exactly_ what she wanted. She just needed to clarify one thing first.

"Can I-" she said softly, punctuating the inquiry with a slow kiss. "-have my own fan?"

"Ah, _that_ ," he laughed, his thumb resting against her cheek. "I suppose so, but you _might_ have to share a trailer. Think you can handle a compromise?"

"If I'm going to be working with you again," she sighed happily. "I guess I'm going to _have_ to."

He grinned at that, pulling her lips back toward his as they seemed to reach an accord. They let the next few minutes unravel, allowing their calculated kiss and his strong embrace to assist in making up for the time they'd lost. Somewhere between his heated touch and what was _definitely_ about to be round two, Emma settled with the fact that she might be able to live with Killian Jones being a _little_ more than a piece of her past.


	16. Physically Fit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, I'm alive! I can't believe it's been so long since I've published anything, but here's a little smut while I get the rest of my writing back on track. Based on a 'our new PE teacher is so hot' text I got from my teacher friend who works at a different school. Basic workplace porn really…..but enjoy!

The raw wood of the gym's corner closet rubbed roughly against her shoulder blades as her breath heaved and trembled. The position she'd found herself in was likely snagging the fabric of the very new and very soft chenille gray sweater she'd purchased with the arrival of October weather in mind - but Emma found quickly that she could only focus on one definitive thought.

This was so _beyond_ unprofessional.

"So," he started, his lips tracing the length of her throat with the beginning of a scorching kiss. "What brings you to the very empty school gymnasium this afternoon, Swan?"

 _As if he doesn't know,_ she thought with a gasp that almost begged for more. Emma couldn't help but bite her lip at the sound of his smooth accent moving across her skin, starting at her jaw and moving down to the neckline of her top in an all too suggestive way - one she'd come to know _very_ well over the past two months. His smirk was smug and patient as he pulled back just enough for their eyes to meet, the simmering passion between them growing more needy and wanting as each tense second slipped by. She let her tongue swipe over her lower lip as his gaze lingered on her mouth, his unwavering concentration confirming he didn't really need an answer to that question.

Yes, he knew _damn_ well why she was there. It was the _same_ reason she made a well planned and skillfully sneaky entrance into the gym every Tuesday at this specific time while her students went to art. It was the _same_ reason he'd shaken up the schedule for his own classes, making sure that his free hour coincided with hers.

"My weekly prep time-" she answered, holding back a moan as his teeth pressed lightly on her collarbone. "-just like always."

He grinned against her collarbone, letting his hands tease the material of her knee length skirt with intent. Emma felt her body go rigid as his fingertips teased the hem before finally slipping beneath. He moved quickly, gripping her thigh and lifting her leg to hitch at his hip as he exhaled a low growl. The fabric bunched at her waist and his hands drifted to her back side, the press of his hard length just under his track pants tempting her as he pressed forward and pulled back a few times.

 _God_ , he was good at that - among other things.

The whole thing was completely insane and totally unexpected. They'd met the week before school started in an instance where she'd tumbled into the gym with an armful of red playground balls while mumbling her annoyance at how difficult the _damn_ things were to keep track of - especially when it came to the slowly developing responsibility skills of adolescents. He hadn't missed the surprised look on her face when their eyes finally met, his dark blue stare quickly coaxing the cooperation of her rather shocked green one. He'd laid on the charm with a teasing innuendo, replying with something about red balls being _much_ easier to deal with than blue ones while her face took on the bright color of the sporting equipment clenched in her unstable arms.

She had gotten out of there fast, but not quickly enough to deny the instant chemistry they seemed to possess - though she was unsure just how such an observation could hold _any_ truth.

It had only taken a few interactions - ones she'd _inadvertently_ ended up in - for her ability to resist to start wavering. They'd shared set up duty for the fall fundraiser and worked on judging the science fair alongside one another, but it had been the seventh grade's back to school dance that finally caused her unexplainable but somehow unavoidable risk taking. It was the obligation of chaperoning together that started with a few subtle glances, then escalated into sharing a casual dance, and ended with a hot and _very_ impulsive make out session in the back of a darkened empty locker room.

Of course _that_ wasn't the most risqué situation they'd put themselves in since this whole thing began - not by a long shot.

"Oh…. _god_ ," Emma gasped, letting her head fall back against the wood as his teeth traced her jaw and his fingertips caressed her thighs. "We have to be….quick."

"Not really a way I like to describe our interactions, love," he mumbled, pulling her mouth back to his. "But if you insist."

Emma gasped sharply as he gripped her tighter, his hips holding her steady against the surface at her back while his mouth landed hot on hers once more. The kiss they spun themselves into was one she never should have believed she'd be able to resist - especially when it was so reminiscent of the escalating one they'd shared that one afternoon when this all truly went past the point of too far.

If it had been up to the dark haired Irishman currently biting her lower lip, Emma _knew_ he would have referred to it as 'rounding the bases' or some other horrible sports and sex cliche. Needless to say, he'd lost the privilege of such smug comments when his breathy grunt had nearly outed them that very first time - and the fact that that particular little tryst had taken place half stripped and barely concealed under the bleachers just after he'd finished putting away a bunch of baseball equipment was coincidence and _nothing_ more.

" _Emma_ ," he gasped, shoving his hips upward as the fabric of their clothes rubbed together. "Hold onto me, love-"

" _I_...I know," she nodded as she held tight to his neck, shivers running down her spine as his fingertips ran up the back of her thighs. "Just hurry…."

He groaned softly when his touch met the soft, dark lace beneath her skirt. Emma felt his breath hitch as his hand moved skillfully enough to tug the material aside, his fingers teasing the damp space while she shuddered against him. His grin was attentive and seducing per usual as he stared up at her, his toned body keeping her suspended against the wall and somewhere between insanity and purely insatiable need.

He was _addicting_ \- this man and the shock he sent flowing through her veins. It was an adrenaline rush unmatched that left her helpless and wanting more. She'd _always_ want more.

"So…. _wet_ , love," he mumbled against her mouth, his tongue testing hers between his heated words. "Have you been this way all day?"

"Long enough," she answered, tugging gently on his scalp. " _Need_ you…."

"Mmmm - and I, you, Swan," he agreed as his hard length fought the fabric of his athletic pants, pressing against her now bare center with intent. "Though I do wish our circumstances were a little more naked."

Emma moaned at the idea of his bare skin pressed to hers, his words igniting the memory of watching him paint the lines on the soccer field just before sunset a few weeks ago. She'd been working late in the computer lab and had peered out the window for longer than she'd _ever_ admit as she observed him laying down the clean white boundaries from one goalpost to the other. He'd looked up when the job was done, pulling his gloves off and offering her a smirk that confirmed he knew she'd been spying. It had taken the slightest tilt of his head toward the new black truck he'd parked at the edge of the grass for Emma to cave, her work abandoned as she wandered outside into the fading sunlight. Her heart pounded and her desire spiked when she reached him, noting silently the manner in which the sunset outlined his handsome features.

She'd _never_ been happier about the concealed parking just behind the soccer storage shed or the fact that the PTO had decided to hold off on funding appropriate lighting for the field's night matches. Then again, discretion wasn't really what was on her mind when he'd kissed her senseless before their clothing became nonexistent. No, she could not have cared less about privacy when he'd spent the next hour worshipping every inch of her flesh before laying her out on the truck's metal bed. The feel of his wandering hands and the heated movement of his desperate lips on her neck when his firm hips thrust upward hard had been enough to test the vehicle's suspension while dissolving her better judgement.

Well, assuming she'd ever actually _had_ any of that regarding him and his seductively blue eyes.

"Yeah, but - god, _Killian_ ," she replied, sinking her teeth into her lower lip as he tugged his pants down just enough, "We can't…. _this_ time…."

"I know, darling," he nodded as her forehead met his. "Have to hurry….for _now_."

Emma smiled with a heavy exhale, glancing down briefly just in time to watch the firm grasp of his skilled hand. He stroked his hard length twice, allowing it to slide between her thighs in a very teasing manner. Emma felt her entire body throb as his teeth nibbled gently on her neck and she let herself vibrate against him when his tongue caressed the place he'd laid the careful bite. Leaving marks was something she'd given up on warning him about a few weeks earlier when he'd promised his mouth could render her speechless and completely undone twice before the end of their weekly time together.

He'd actually managed it _three_ times - and she'd worn the several dark bruises he sucked into the flesh of her inner thighs as a reminder for the rest of that week.

"Bloody hell, _Swan_ ," he breathed, kissing her hard and he pushed her a little more firmly into the wall at her back. "Like _this?"_

"Yes…. _god_ , just like _that_ ," she pleaded as he continued his soft thrusts back and forth, gathering the wetness between her legs. "I need more... _please_ -"

"Mmmm, I do like when you beg, love."

He growled a deep sound against her lips, the motion of his mouth punctuated by the strong shove of his hips as he thrust upward and entered her swiftly. Emma moaned louder than intended at the feel of him so hard and thick while she bore down on him with just enough friction. The pace he set was fast and almost breathless, his palm flattening against the surface he was holding her against as he battled for leverage. It didn't take him long to find it and Emma bit her tongue lightly to hold back the cry he was trying to pull from her desperate mouth.

"So _hot_ , love," he said in that raspy tone. "Feels so _good_ like this, Emma….love when you're so ready for me."

"Oh, _yes_ ….yes, _Killian_ ," she countered, trying not to linger on the way they'd so passionately exchanged first names in that moment. "So hard….and _deep_. I want more-"

"Oh, you like-" he cut in, driving up into her with his legs braced and his fingernails digging into her thighs. "- _that?"_

"Yes! _Don't_ stop…. _please_ don't stop."

An anxious grunt escaped him as he moved, the push and pull of his hips promising her unraveling release in only a matter of moments. Her mouth parted with labored breaths as her fingers held on tight, one hand gripping his flexed bicep and the other pulled firmly on the back of his dark scalp. The feel of her nails digging into the dark tufts of hair just above his neck made him moan a sound she'd been waiting to hear and his quick adjustment in speed soon coaxed a similar reaction from her.

"You have to be-" he warned with an amused smirk, keeping her pinned with his hips as his fingers pressed against her lips. "- _quiet_ , love."

"I know….I…. _just_ -" she gasped, her words mumbled against his playful hand. "-don't _want_ to. Feels so _good_."

"One day, Emma," he assured her as her teeth skimmed his fingertips. "One day….I'll let you _scream_ for me, love."

Her head dropped back against the wall with a soft moan, her mind spinning with the idea of just how much she wanted that - she _wanted_ him to hear just what he did to her with the heat of his hands and the timbre of his voice. The fire continuing to build in his darkened blue stare told her he wanted that too.

"Killian, _we_ -"

" _Not_ here, love," he clarified with a deep thrust, watching her teeth ravage her lower lip. "Much more privacy for that….but….bloody _hell_ , Swan-"

"I know…. _god_ -" she breathed as he moved faster, rocking back and forth almost athletically. "-kiss me, Killian. Just _kiss_ me."

He nodded distractedly before surging forward to capture her lips and muffle the sounds she could no longer hold back. His tongue moved torturously against hers, the motion causing her to remember the many things he'd done to her with it since they first fell into this very taboo arrangement. Emma held tight to his neck, her arms growing weak as she writhed against him and he defined the term 'stamina'. They only had roughly forty five minutes each week, but she couldn't stop wondering for the thousandth time just how much longer _and_ harder he truly could go.

Something about his heavy, deep breaths and ability to hold her up while he wore her down told Emma she probably couldn't begin to _imagine_ those parameters.

"Emma," he gasped, his voice a pleading whisper. " _Swan_ , I'm going to-"

"Me too…. _me_ -"

The warning fell apart as she did, her body rigid as he followed her over the wavering edge. The kiss stalled as they both rode out the final tremors of pleasure and his forehead rested against hers once he finally pulled back. She wasn't sure how they'd managed to sink to the floor in the midst of what once again proved to be the best sex of her life, but his back rested against the opposite wall in complete exhaustion. She was instantly captivated by the sated look on his handsome face and she wished that the eventual privacy he'd promised was something they could enjoy in this rare quiet moment.

Such instances only rolled around once a week though - and suddenly that didn't seem even _close_ to enough.

His eyes opened lazily and he smiled adorably, his lips swollen and red as certain evidence of their passionate kisses - the ones she'd never intended to enjoy quite so much. She did though and how such a thing had happened was _obviously_ out of her control.

"Do you know how much time we have left?"

"Not enough," he answered with a sweet and very honest smirk before glancing at the crooked clock on the wall. "About fifteen minutes I think - supposing that clock still keeps proper time after last week."

"Hey, that wasn't _my_ fault," she accused, blushing at the recollection of knocking it off the wall seven days earlier in the process of removing his shirt. "Not _totally_ anyway."

"Fair enough," he laughed. "But I _still_ think retribution is in order, love."

"Oh? What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I know it wouldn't fall under the _weekly_ umbrella," he started. "But with Halloween this weekend, I've been roped into supervising that damn haunted corn maze the school insists on constructing every year. I was hoping you might take pity on a colleague for the evening - maybe keep me company while I keep the peace between costumed kids and the eccentric volunteers who've signed up to terrify them."

Emma tilted her head at the proposition, her hot skin still pressed against his as his thumbs traced her spine beneath her sweater. His eyes were a fierce, happy color of blue and his hair was a wreck that would surely require an explanation other than what they'd actually spent the majority of the last hour doing. It was easy to see it now though - in the dull light of the too small storage space, there was something a lot like hope lingering in his gorgeous gaze.

It would be easy enough to admit that she felt the same prodding feeling too, but perhaps that's wasn't what this was actually about. _Only one way to find out_ , she thought as her lips pursed.

"I have to say that I didn't _really_ expect a corn maze to be the route you'd choose to make me scream-" she flirted, her fingers brushing over an storied scar on his cheek. "-but I _suppose_ I could be your accomplice."

"Well, the work portion of the evening might not be quite _that_ fun," he grinned as his parted mouth moved toward hers. "So maybe we'll take care of the screaming later on."

"Ah," she sighed with a taunting eyebrow. "Not into mixing work and play, Jones?"

" _Hardly_ the case, love," he teased in return, tickling her ribs. "I think I've made that much clear."

"Yeah," she agreed with a reminiscing smile. "You certainly have."


	17. Extracurricular Activities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little sequel to 'Physically Fit'....because there's nothing like Halloween-ish smut in November. Rated M for sure.

"Killian…. _stop_ -" Emma weakly warned, spinning to face him and his salacious smirk. "-doing that. You're supposed to be supervising, remember?"

"True," he laughed, letting his fingertips trail down her sides while tickling her ribs. "But these little events are _supposed_ to be fun, you know. Depriving me of such privilege would be bad form."

Emma couldn't help but roll her eyes at his innuendo, his words hinting toward things she shouldn't be pondering given their current location. The circumstances he was so teasingly reminding her of were those of a school fundraiser in the shape of the annual corn maze Principal Hopper insisted on each year. She'd avoided participating in the planning and proctoring of this long lived tradition for a few years now, always claiming she was busy with some other obligation.

She, of course, couldn't use that line this year when she was propositioned - mostly because the offer came from the devilishly handsome gym teacher who would have definitely qualified as her other obligation if they were anywhere but standing a short distance from the evening's adolescent event. She mused at the thought of him being her excuse for exclusion as she glared at his attempt to steal a kiss from her stubborn lips. Well, 'steal' was a loosely used word. It's not like she wasn't aching to give in to him - even if they were barely out of sight courtesy of some well placed bales of hay.

"I'm pretty sure you're referencing two _very_ different types of fun, Jones," she quipped, trying not to lean into his heated touch. "We're _supposed_ to be monitoring the area for deviant students - not teaching a very inappropriate behavior 'how-to' course."

"But teaching _is_ what we do, love," he returned as his hot gaze lingered on her lips. "You can't warrant a man for utilizing his talents."

"I can when he's skirting the line of professionalism," she answered as she let him zero in just a little closer. "So stop it with the 'making eyes' thing and try to be a _somewhat_ decent role model…."

"Playing the morality police doesn't _really_ have the sort of appeal I'm interested in right now, Swan," he smiled, finally coaxing a quick peck from her. "Although, I certainly wouldn't mind having access to a pair of handcuffs-"

"Oh my _hell_ ," she blushed as she finally peeled herself away, hoping desperately that they hadn't been seen. "The only thing needing restraint right now is your wandering hands."

"Can't help it, love," he grinned with a quick wink. "After watching you walk up and down the hall in that tight skirt yesterday, I've got very good reason to believe that my hands have fair reason for exploration."

God, _why_ did he have to say things like that?

Emma felt a taunting heat warm her cheeks as she feigned an eye roll. Her body hummed at the sound of the sultry words he seemed to so effortlessly string together, the seducing lilt of his voice almost enough to make her toss the thought of ethical behavior aside so he could make good on his very promising offers.

Almost - but not _quite_. At least, not yet.

"Evening, Killian! Oh _and_ Emma - so wonderful to see you too," Principal Hopper greeted as they approached the entrance to the carved out maze. "I didn't know you'd signed up to volunteer as well!"

"Yeah, I guess I was kind of-" she started, peeking sideways at Killian. "- _goaded_ into it."

The glance she earned in return was an amused one and she tried not to stare for too long when she caught sight of his tongue running along his lower lip. The quick motion was followed by that trademark smirk - the one that was both equally annoying and inviting. The slight curve of his mouth was suddenly quite captivating and a few minutes passed before Emma noticed just how distracted she'd become.

Yeah, it was _certainly_ going to be a long night.

"Well, things are running pretty smoothly so far," Principal Hopper explained, gesturing toward the lines of students. "I'm sure they could use some help taking tickets if you're up for that, Emma?"

"Oh, sure," she nodded, suddenly a bit disgruntled that she wouldn't be working alongside the smooth speaking man she'd shown up with. "Whatever you need."

"Killian, I think August has been patrolling the perimeter for mischief," Principal Hopper continued. "See if you can catch up with him - you two could probably divide and conquer pretty easily."

"On it, mate," Killian confirmed. "Anything else?"

"Not really. Just manage the chaos and try to keep the holiday deviance at bay."

Emma offered a slightly blushing smile that was accompanied by a very quick and hopefully attention diverting nod. Keeping the ruse of colleagues and nothing more wasn't going to be as easy as she'd hoped, especially because the tension had been building between them since the dismissal bell rang.

"So, I'll-" Emma started, her voice gathering his attention as Principal Hopper took off to deal with a few other chaperones. "-see you later on I guess?"

"Oh, don't worry, love," Killian grinned, leaning perhaps a little too close so his breath fell hot against her ear. "I'll find you."

###### 

The night went by surprisingly quickly. It was the sight of costumed kids dashing back and forth and her easy conversation with Elsa, the school secretary who Emma had quickly learned wasn't as icy as she initially thought, that helped the hours pass without too much diversion - not that _he_ hadn't been trying.

Between tearing tickets and discussing the upcoming standardized tests with her newfound colleague turned friend, Emma had had little time to notice why her phone was continually vibrating. It was only after they'd finished counting cash and she'd helped gather up the sporadic chairs littering the area that she finally took a moment to check out the screen that kept flashing with incoming messages.

There was _seven_ of them - and yes, they were all from _one_ person.

_**Killian: Missing me yet, love?** _

Emma bit her lip at the question. She hated to admit it, but while she certainly hadn't hated the way the night panned out, she'd agreed to accompany him to this little outing under the impression she'd be seeing a lot more of him. Yes, a whole _lot_ more.

_**Killian: Why the hell did I agree to help with this again? Total madness, Swan. I'd much rather be elsewhere with your company.** _

She felt a hot blush on her cheeks as a dozen different places that fell under the category of 'elsewhere' crossed her mind. They'd experimented in several of those more risky spots before, but it was the idea of a more private location that had her mind wandering. She tried not to think about the offer he'd made earlier in regards to her rather loud volume or her uncontrolled reactions and opted to wonder just what color the sheets on his surely comfortable bed might be - and more so, how they'd feel against her skin as he hovered over her.

_**Killian: About an hour left, love. Then onto better plans….assuming you've thought of some?** _

Emma felt a tingle trace her spine as she read hush inquiring words. She'd been occupied enough since he left her side to not think of just where the rest of their night might go, but now that her assigned task was complete, it was difficult to ignore the long list of things she wanted to do. Well, more like the list of things she was dying to do to _him_.

_**Killian: God, chasing kids out of this bloody maze is awful. Quite muddy as well. I'm going to need a shower.** _

Oh, _god_ \- that was _not_ the image she needed in her mind while still in the presence of students and various volunteers. _Dammit_ , she thought with a grumble.

_**Killian: Perhaps you'd be willing to join me?** _

Emma stared hard at the text message, nearly tripping over a pile of stray leaves. The idea of the toned gym teacher she'd been secretly breaking every moral code with for quite some time completely _naked_ and drenched in hot water was almost too much to handle. Imagining the sight of sporadic droplets sliding down his collarbone and biceps while making their way to his torso as well as the chiseled muscles just above his waist made her realize one thing instantly.

She needed to find him _now_.

_**Killian: I must say I don't dislike that idea, love. In fact, thinking of you pressed up against the cold tile of a certain shower is making my evening a bit uncomfortable. I've been forced to seek out a bit of distraction….** _

The final message was something a bit more tame that she definitely wasn't expecting from the insatiable man who'd been subtly trying to tempt her since they arrived. Well, perhaps he was attempting to do much more than simply own the desire she'd been failing to push away, but then again, that was _always_ the story when it came to Killian Jones.

The screen of her phone was quickly illuminated with a picture of just what he'd been up to - and that was apparently carving an all too perfect pumpkin. Squinting her eyes, Emma was quickly able to make out just what he'd chosen to design. It was a swan, one that had been created with precise strokes of a sharp tool and those patient hands she knew _very_ well. Shaking her head lightly with a soft scoff, she hit the reply button and tried desperately to think of just how to respond to such a text.

Of course the man who'd ravaged her so many times and so according to a prompt schedule would also possess such artistic ability. Of course he'd be able to go from fiery flirtation to halting affection in the mere drop of a _damn_ hat.

_**Emma: Looks like you've been busy….** _

His response didn't take long, the surprising ding of the device in her hand making her body stiffen and her nerves spike. He had a way with that and apparently his persistent cellphone did too.

_**Killian: Well, what can I say? August has had it covered for the last little while. I figured I ought to be productive rather than distracting.** _

_**Emma: Well, you've succeeded. Where are you anyway?** _

Waiting on very prickly pins and needles, Emma waited for what would hopefully be directions on just where she might find her teasing colleague. The quick alert sound that earned her steady stare reminded her that he wasn't always quite _that_ easy.

_**Killian: Come find me.** _

Her fingers froze at the request and she tapped her foot a few times on the dirt below. He'd done this a few times in the past - prompting her with one of his little games despite the need they were obviously both feeling. The last thing Emma wanted was to go on some wild chase, but anticipation quickly argued that this was the only way to get what she wanted.

_**Emma: What happened to you finding me? Can't handle it, Jones?** _

_**Killian: I'm quite sure you're the one who couldn't handle it, but I've decided watching you try sounds like more fun.** _

Her senses vibrated at the thought of him waiting for her somewhere beyond the towering and very inconvenient vegetation. She had to wonder just what state he'd be in when she finally found him and how quickly she might be able to coax him into a more scandalous one.

_**Emma: Okay, fine. Do I get any clues?** _

_**Killian: Well, let's just say I'm not far and perhaps reminiscing a particular much more enjoyable after hours activity we definitely need to attempt again.** _

_Gotcha_ , Emma thought after a moment. They'd only indulged in such explicitly out of schedule acts a handful of times, but the fact that they were outside gave her quite the hint. Yes, she knew _exactly_ where to find the man who'd roped her into this entire evening - well, at least she _hoped_ she did. Taking a deep breath, Emma also threw in a bit of hope that locating him was well worth taking the fastest route to the place she was speculating - the shortcut that went right through the backside of the damn corn maze.

_Of course it would be worth it,_ she silently convinced herself - zombie volunteers and troublesome terrain be damned.

_**Emma: On my way - and you definitely owe me one.** _

_**Killian: Happy to pay that debt, darling, but if you don't hurry I may be forced to start without you.** _

The realization that he could already be in such an anxious and possibly half naked state was enough to set her into motion, her feet landing in a few stray patches of mud as she muttered several phrases of creative cursing. Shoving her way through the tall and stiff stalks of corn in such heightened frame of mind was the oddest state of inconvenience that only this man could prod her into and as she listened to the distant sounds of Halloween haunting, her strides grew faster.

The last thing she needed was to be caught shrieking in fear at the sight of some costumed horror as the holiday event came to a close, especially while she was in pursuit of the man teasing her via text. What she was quickly growing to need even more was _quite_ the opposite.

She reached the edge of the tall plants with a heavy gasp and a vow to never eat such a _stupid_ vegetable again in a surprising matter of minutes. Her eyes darted across the open space to where she knew he'd parked the truck only hours earlier to land on the man she'd been aching to find, his hand braced on the passenger side door and a devious smirk on his face. Emma was instantly grateful for the fading headlights of the vehicles leaving the maze's makeshift parking lot, watching the miles around them darken as desire settled in her bones.

The thoughts she was having were the definition of risky - but then again, so was the arrangement they'd been indulging for _much_ longer than any one time thing.

"Took you long enough," he teased, his grip on the truck door a bit strained as he lifted an eyebrow. "Can we go now, love?"

"Hmmm," she answered as she moved closer, her hands traveling quickly to the hem of his well fitted jeans. "Not yet."

Tugging him closer, Emma quickly pressed her lips hard against his. It took him only a moment to comply as his fingers tangled in her hair and a soft moan escaped his throat. His hands were everywhere as he grinned against her hot mouth, their parted kiss making her body clench and her skin flush.

"So you're thinking about it too then, Swan?"

"Hmmm," she replied playfully, batting her long eyelashes as her breath brushed against his. "No idea what you're talking about."

"Ah, so you don't-" he teased, his fingertips toying with the button on her jeans as his thumb pressed against the front seam. "-remember _this?"_

"You…. _oh_ , you've done that a few times before," she mumbled as her hips drifted toward his firm touch. "So which one?"

"The night you met me in the parking lot to borrow the extra keys to the gym's back entrance and you let me press you against this-" he answered as his kiss dropped to her neck and his hand tapped the truck door. "-for reasons I'd be happy to illustrate now."

"Oh," Emma sighed, tilting her head as he sucked lightly on the space just below her ear. " _That_ time…."

"I want that, love," he told her with a heated plea. "Need to taste you again…."

_God_ , how she wanted that too. She wanted to see him drop to his knees with that salacious smirk before he buried his tongue between her thighs. She wanted to look down and see his dark head of hair a total mess as she clutched it for leverage. She wanted to come with the effort of his lips and feel his satisfied groan rumble against her core. She wanted all of it - but first, there was something else she _really_ wanted to do.

"Mmmm, later," she promised, yanking hard on his pants until her hand could reach beneath the band of his boxer briefs. "You first."

"Oh, bloody _hell_ ," he gasped as she lowered herself to the ground, her hand stroking him firmly. " _Yes_ , love-"

She'd only done this for him a few times before, the most recent time being just after he finished putting away the extra chairs from the dreaded sexual education class he had been coerced into helping with. She'd taunted him about it mercilessly for about a week, a choice that had caused _him_ to tease _her_ in a very different way. Killian had been stressed out enough that the awkwardness of the health curriculum wasn't anything like his usual daily lesson plan and after watching him scratch behind his ear multiple times during his quick portion of the presentation, she decided to find a way to take his mind off the whole thing. He'd been caught off guard but instantly mesmerized as she shoved him back into the leather desk chair of the spare classroom, lowering to her knees and working him into a state of heavy panting with a few skilled motions of her mouth.

It was another situation where she'd been grateful for a locked door and an empty classroom.

"Emma - _god_ ," he mumbled as he braced a hand on the back of her head. "So good…. _more_ , Swan."

She hummed around him, causing his body to shiver as she took him deeper. His rasping groan was something primal and sexy that was unrivaled by any other sound she'd heard him make before and yes, there had been so _many_ others. Emma let her mouth slid up and down a little faster, her tongue swirling and hot as his hips rutted lightly. She watched him move while she did the same, the thick cords of his neck straining as his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. It didn't take long for him to let go, his back trembling against the metal door as he pulsed deep in her mouth. She let him ride out the wave of pleasure before moving to her feet again and dragging her fingernails through his scalp while his forehead fell to her shoulder.

"What was that for, love?"

She smiled softly when his head lifted again, his eyes the haziest blue she'd ever seen. Unable to conjure up a reason aside from the fact that she just wanted to, she opted for a quick kiss instead. He didn't push for an answer as his lips lazily accepted hers and his hand held her jaw gently. It was strangely intimate in a way she had only experienced a handful of times with this man, but the unexpected passion drifting back and forth between them felt safe and fighting it was suddenly the furthest thing from her mind.

"We should go," he said softly, his easy smirk evident in his tone when their kiss halted. "Public indecency and all that."

"Yeah," she agreed with a laugh. "Plus, there was an offer of a shower if I recall correctly."

"A promise I'm prepared to fulfill," he assured her with an honest gaze. "Now let's get the hell out of here before I opt to reciprocate instead."

Watching him tug open the passenger door for her before moving briskly to the other side, Emma felt her skin tingle at the thought of him kneeling down and taking what he clearly wanted. She knew without hesitation that his desire to do something quite similar to her would soon consume them both before the night was over. She could only hope to some higher power that they'd make the drive of several blocks back to school before that happened.

###### 

A quick phone call from Principal Hopper was the only thing that could force them to keep their hands off one another as they took the less traveled frontage road back to the empty building they were _definitely_ going to take advantage of. Killian assured the man quickly that he'd unpack the orange traffic cones and sporadic decorations that needed to be left in the office before locking up the building to head home. It was the 'least he could do' he'd told their boss as he tossed a subtle wink her way. _Bastard_ , she'd thought as she caught his mischievous gesture. They were probably going to get each other fired one day.

"You-" he breathed, anchoring her carefully against the cold wall of the locker room hallway. "-are _filthy_."

"So are you," she replied in a gasping tone, her grip on his hair tight as he nipped her collarbone. "We should….clean up."

"Good idea," he agreed as her hands toyed with his shirt. "This way, love."

They reached the corner shower quickly, his hand feeling around for the metal knob to turn the water on. Their clothes seemed to fall to the floor without much effort, his heated kiss contrasting deliciously with the frigid air of the space they'd found themselves in. Her hair was a mess of wild waves on her shoulders by the time he pulled her forward into the warm water, his quick motion turning them so she was braced against the surface just opposite the showerhead. She'd barely gathered control of the situation when she noticed him lowering his toned body in a well known fashion.

"Killian….what are you-"

"I thought it might be quite obvious," he mumbled as he kissed up the inside of her thigh, her body trembling under his touch. "Now, _relax_ , Swan…."

"Oh, _god_ ….we-" Emma shuddered, her fingernails digging softly into his hair as his tongue pressed flat against her. "-we _can't_ ….you can't…. _here_ …."

"We can and I will-" he countered, his words punctuated by a long lick and his tense fingers on her legs. "- _right_ ….here."

Emma felt her skin flush as she lost whatever poorly formed rebuttal was in her throat. The only sound escaping her now a heaving and begging moan - one that was growing louder and more uncontrolled by the second.

"That's it, love," he mumbled as his mouth worked her closer to the edge. "Need you to _come_ , Swan….."

Denying the deliciously accented words of the man on his knees before her was impossible, the combined motion of his tongue and two thrusting fingers making her explode with a soft cry. His touch worked her through it, her legs tremoring as he explored her a little further with his mouth.

"Oh, shit," she stammered with labored breath as she pulled lightly on his scalp. "Get up here…."

"Why don't you-" he countered, shifting them so his back rested against the icy wall and his fingers massaged her calves. "-come down _here_ instead?"

His expression was adorably smug as the falling water rolled down his shoulders. She gave him a lazy smile when he tapped the top of his thighs in invitation and her teeth teased her lower lip as she watched his hand curl around his hard length, stroking twice in preparation. Seeing the way he worked himself up made her body clench and despite her desire to continue watching, being anywhere but on top of him was out of the question.

"Much better, love," he mumbled, letting her soaked flesh slide back and forth a few times before he tapped her ass lightly. "Up a bit, Swan….so I _can_ -"

Mutual moans escaped them as he pushed inside, hers at a very inappropriate volume while his dissolved into a near growl. Emma felt her body adjust as he sunk deeper, his feet planted on the wet floor as she began to move in his lap. His purposeful grip rested on her hipbone, his hold encouraging her pace while his opposite hand pressed hard between her shoulderblades.

" _Yes_ \- oh, just like that," he exhaled, his breath heavy on her throat as she rocked forward roughly. "Ride me, _Swan_."

His request made her spine tingle and she pressed down hard, letting the thick feel of him distract her from just how deviant their little escapade was. Letting her forehead fall against his as the steam from the shower filled her senses, Emma had to wonder how something so _wrong_ could feel this right.

" _Emma_ ," he gasped, taking the use of her first name to pull her out of the thought and back into pleasure. "Love, _I'm_ ….are you…."

She nodded rapidly, allowing her soft moans to fill the minimal space between them as he gripped her thighs. A heightened plea fell from her lips when he shoved his hips firmly upward, driving into her with that stamina she still found to be unreal. The water poured down her back in a rush of heat, igniting the release he'd been pushing her toward for god knows how long. Her arms tightened around his neck and the coaxing of his hand pulled her into a firm kiss as he came, the fusing of their lips muffling his relieved groan. She wasn't sure how long they sat there under the cascading water with his fingers tracing her back, but the waning temperature of the shower reminded her eventually that they'd probably remained in a compromising position _much_ longer than they should.

His subsequent shiver was also a rather adorable reminder and she couldn't help her muffled giggle at the feel of his chilled skin.

"Don't _laugh_ at me, Swan," he whined as he pinched her side and kissed her carefully. "It's bloody cold and the water pressure is much less satisfactory than I expected. To think that the school board allows such a thing is a travesty."

"Well," she said, smiling against his lips as she tried not to think about how the higher ups would feel about what had just happened in the school's locker room. "At least the acoustics are up to par."

"Hmmm, _true_ ," he grinned. "Though I still don't know if you were loud enough, darling."

"I realize that you're very interested in this whole 'screaming bloody murder' thing, but Halloween-" she countered as her fingernails caressed his dark scalp. "-is _over_ , Jones."

"There's nothing wrong with practicing for next year," he replied as he brushed the moisture off her cheek. "Just let me run and unload that stuff from the back of the truck real fast and we'll get out of here. Meet you in the gym?"

The endearing and hopeful look he gave her as they rose back to their unsteady feet was matched only by the goofy way his soaked hair stuck up in multiple directions and the very light blue of his admiring eyes. As much as she had once wanted to avoid it, there was obviously more to….whatever this thing was. The answer he was waiting for was one that was almost too easy.

"Yeah," she breathed, letting his nose nuzzle hers with a final kiss. "Just like always."


	18. The Thing About Apple(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little modern Killian with a Thanksgiving twist....because this is what happened when I had to help my impatient, technologically challenged mom with her new iPhone and I was inspired :] fluffy fluff.

“Swan, I told you this was a bad idea.”

Emma rolled her eyes dramatically for what was certainly the hundredth time in just under an hour. That's how long they'd been fighting this war - well, _losing_ it. The morning of the first holiday celebration they'd be hosting at their new home was probably not the _best_ time for a technology lesson, but since it was supposed to be a day of gratitude, putting it off another day didn't seem logical. It wasn't that she was lacking on things to be thankful for - she just couldn't wait to add ‘my boyfriend’s working cellphone’ to the list.

“The screen is black _again_ , Swan,” he huffed, swiveling on the bar stool as he hovered over the device on the counter. “It's definitely broken.”

Emma groaned as she set about scouting out the gravy spoon her mother had given to her earlier that week for the dinner they'd be hosting that day. She'd had her morning routine laid out somewhat precisely at first - turkey in the oven, check with Granny about the pies, make _damn_ sure a recently purchased bottle of wine was right next to the corkscrew - but her systematic approach to a peaceful Thanksgiving had been shoved aside when a certain pirate noticed his new phone had arrived in yesterday’s mail.

A quiet cooking environment was out of the question the instant he managed to pull the plastic seal off the device’s box.

“So what's this cord for? Do I have to keep it plugged in all the time?”

“ _No_ , Killian,” Emma grumbled with an amused grin. “It's not a landline.”

“A _land_ -line? What's that got to-”

“Never mind,” she smirked quickly, handing him a set of cloth napkins. “Just go put these out by the plates while the setup process finishes.”

“I must say that so far, I'm not impressed, love,” he replied, glancing back down at the phone as the white apple lit up the screen. “I've always been under the impression that magic in this world is supposed to be quite instantaneous. Well, _unless_ this thing operates under a dark spell or-”

“Killian, it's called a software update,” Emma cut in, raising her eyebrows in condescension. “Your phone is _not_ cursed.”

“Well, forgive me if I'm not exactly trusting of a device that’s labeled with the Evil Queen’s favorite fruit,” he retorted, holding up the empty box with the decal. “To think you're still willing to lay claim to products with such a suspicious name is baffling, love.”

“Hey, _I_ am not on trial here, Captain,” she teased as she tossed a red dish towel over her shoulder and pointed at the electronic in question. “In fact, I distinctly remember telling you that your old one was fine and you didn't need an upgrade yet.”

“Which I agreed with, Swan,” he smiled before looking up at the ceiling sheepishly. “Well, at least I _did_ ….until the old phone met a rather watery and very unexpected death off the back of the Jolly Roger last week.”

“I know there's a joke about ‘walking the plank’ in there somewhere and I-” Emma smirked, leaning over the counter to kiss him. “-am not _even_ gonna go there.”

“Fair enough, darling,” he answered with a defeated grin, nuzzling her nose. “Though we both know my humor is ship-shape.”

Emma set back to work, cubing the bread for homemade stuffing while keeping an eye on the man who was quite likely going to break his new phone before it was even activated. She bit her lip as she watched him haphazardly lay out the napkins before returning to perch on the nearby seat. His fingers drummed lightly on the counter as he furrowed his eyebrows in analysis of the flawless screen - _very_ unlike the old one that had been scratched up by his nervous hook when he'd first learned about the means of modern communication.

She certainly wasn't anxious to go back to the days of constant questioning from a confused Captain, but as he continued his staring contest with the latest model of the iPhone, it was quite obvious that they were headed there.

“Swan, it shut off again! Something has _got_ to be wrong-”

“ _Stop_ touching it,” she chastised, swatting his hands away from the buttons he'd been pushing despite her direction not to. “The activation process takes a minute, but if you leave it alone, it will do its thing and be ready to operate a lot faster.”

“But what if I miss a call? Or a _text?_ When I spoke to your boy, he assured me that swapping talking phones wasn't going to be a big deal.”

Ah, yes - Henry and his _unnecessary_ coaxing. _That's_ how this whole thing had started.

Killian had barely gotten used to the process of running her hand me down device when her son had started putting the idea of an improvement into the skeptical pirate’s head. It began with the joke of fliphone being useful for little besides time traveling and had ended with Killian waltzing into the house a few days earlier to announce his need for a new ‘thing with touchy screen’ after spending a few now very conspicuous hours with Henry and David at the docks. She’d been formulating a way to talk him out of it when he held up the soaking wet electronic with a sheepish smile, a sight that would have made her laugh if she wouldn’t have been dreading the idea of dragging new technology into the house once again.

Had she known a change was going to be _this_ ridiculous, she would have made someone - well, _anyone_ \- else handle this version of Killian’s continued ventures into the modern realm.

“It’s really more out of necessity than anything, love,” he reminded her, reading the exasperation on her face with knowing eyes before pointing to the listed features on the instruction manual. “It says it’s impenetrable by water so it’s not likely the sea will claim this one.”

“Water _resistant_ , Killian - _not_ completely waterproof,” she clarified as she quickly typed in the wi-fi password on the illuminated keys. “Can we agree that you aren’t going to start testing the product warranty right away?”

“It doesn’t look like I’m even going to have the option, Swan,” he sighed as he tried to peek at the settings she was fiddling with. “I suppose if it doesn’t end up working, I can always ask your father for his old device. I guess I don’t need a completely new one-”

“If you’ll calm down for like _five_ minutes, this one will be all yours and then perhaps I _will_ be asking my dad to assist you with learning to use it.”

“He might be open to that actually. He was going on and on the other day about how procuring this new device would allow him to beat me in something called ‘Words with Friends’-” Killian answered, a hint of excitement making his posture straighten after a moment. “-which might suggest that he and I _are_ friends, right?”

“Well, I suppose that depends on just how _many_ points he wins by,” Emma smirked, tapping the necessary icon to download the game quickly. “He’s not always a merciful opponent.”

“I’m _well_ aware, love,” he said with a grimace and a raised eyebrow. “Quite the back stabber as I recall-”

“Yeah, _yeah_ ,” Emma cut in, sliding the new phone across the counter to him. “Why don’t you see if you can figure out how to send a text on this and ask him what time he’s bringing my mom over to help with potatoes?”

Killian’s face lit up with boyish wonder as he took the shiny device in hand, his eyes wide as his mouth curved into a subtle smile. She felt her heart flutter slightly as she watched him - the way he was so constantly amazed and simultaneously confused by this world would never cease to entertain her.

“So is there someone I can send a letter to regarding how complicated this sodding thing is?”

“Probably,” Emma laughed, typing a quick text to her son on her own phone. “I’ll tell Henry to help you out with that.”

Killian let out a flustered sigh as he explored the numerous features and buttons before setting his new technology back down on top of the box, his narrowed eyes making him looking adorably frustrated. She tried not to show her amusement as he wondered out loud about everything from autocorrect to email, her eyes checking the clock and noting that Henry would hopefully be home _any_ minute. She could only pray that he’d have the patience to explain who Siri was and ‘how the bloody _hell_ she knows so much’.

Emma tossed a dish towel over her shoulder as she peeked back at him once more, her grin growing as she noticed the phone he was trying to operate was somehow now upside down. She shook her head at the odd irony of the moment as she started to chop up carrots, the ongoing standoff with a certain fruit as prominent as ever as he mumbled in the background.

Apparently even without Regina’s worse half around, they’d still _always_ have trouble with apples.


	19. Waterlogged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My GF-SS gift for kat2609 :] wet pirates and smutty smut ahoy!

"A _fish?_ Really?"

Emma shrugged with an apologetic yet entertained smile as she leaned over to get a peek at the section of the classic text he was perusing. They hadn't had much time to discuss many of the town's new visitors - especially what with her traveling to some alternate dream or wish or _whatever_ reality - but now that they'd found some very rare breathing room, Killian had brought along the novel Henry had loaned him to clarify a few details of his past.

The fact that present day film had turned the seafaring tale he was trying to share into an animated under the ocean adventure wasn't _her_ fault - but the amusement she found once again as he failed to comprehend the modern world's mysterious ways was something she'd take the blame for.

"Swan - _no_ ," he argued, shaking his head as he sighed in exasperation with his hand on his coffee mug. "That's the most ridiculous thing I think I've heard in this realm. Nemo is a sea captain - not a _damn_ cartoon animal."

"Hey, you asked me if I already knew _anything_ about his story," she grinned, propping her elbows up on the table. "I can't help it if things got lost in translation between that world and this one."

"I just don't get….why would a fish _even_ be in a doctor's office in-" he huffed, folding his arms in annoyance. "-whatever that place is called."

" _Australia_ , Killian, and it was a _dentist_ office," Emma reminded him. "The movie was very cute actually. Don't be such a grouch."

"Love, I can assure you that I'm not at all like that green monster who makes his home in a trash can," he countered, his pride quite evident over recalling a morning show he'd encountered when they babysat Neal one weekend. "Nor is Nemo a clown _or_ a fish. Bloody hell, this realm truly has a way with skewing the facts."

"Is this you still being salty about a certain pirate with a waxed mustache and an awful perm?"

"No, this is a whole new level of insult," he pouted, narrowing his stare playfully at her. "Though I will _always_ be bitter about that one."

"Yeah, _yeah_ ," she teased with a roll of her eyes and a quick glance down at her now empty cocoa mug. "Maybe you should go ask Aladdin what it's like to be shafted storywise. I'm pretty sure being turned into a genie wasn't the highlight of his trip to Storybrooke."

"Hmmm," he replied, feigning nonchalance as he snagged her now empty mug and stood to saunter off. "Perhaps I'll do that."

She was still in the middle of mustering a suitable reply when he spun on his feet, demonstrating his clumsy swashbuckling nature when he failed to notice a fast moving Ashley with a tray of several water glasses. Emma covered her mouth with a shielding hand, her expression a mix of humor and horror at the sight now drenched in front of her.

"Oh, _Killian!_ I'm _so_ ….I didn't-" the blonde girl stammered, bending to clean up the mess she'd created. "-I can't believe I….I'm _so_ sorry! I was just in a hurry I guess…. _ugh_ and now you're all wet…."

More apologies and words were exchanged between the surprised Captain and Granny's newest waitress, but Emma heard none of it as her eyes zeroed in on the man she'd been bantering with only moments ago. As her shameless staring took over, she watched the world dissolve around the sheepish yet sexy pirate and her mind somehow conjured up the one question that had yet to be answered since the time she'd pulled him as a cunning blacksmith from the rubble back in the Enchanted Forest.

How did he manage to make such ridiculous circumstances _so_ temptingly _sinful?_

"It's fine, lass," he assured Ashley with that kind voice. "It's not my first encounter with unexpected water and it's not likely to be the last."

Emma gawked just a bit as she realized _that_ detail was exactly what had her so distracted. The wet evidence of his collide was a sight for not just the sorest but _any_ eyes and she felt appreciation swell in her senses as she lingered on the soaked man in front of her. The water had certainly done its worst - or _best_ , if you were calling for her opinion - and the damp state of his blue shirt allowed it to cling to his chest in a way that almost made Emma jealous. The thick hair that was often visible beneath the few buttons he chose to keep undone appeared slightly darker when drenched and Emma felt her fingers ache to touch it. His hands had set about brushing the stray droplets off the leather sleeves of his trademark jacket and she carefully observed the way the water rolled off his soft fingertips.

 _Yeah - just a bit wet,_ she thought as her teeth instantly found her lower lip.

"I'll grab you a towel-" Ashley offered, shaking her head. "-and let me cover your check for you…"

" _Nonsense_ , lass," Killian insisted with a waving hand, giving Emma a fast nod. "If you're truly worried about penance, how about you bring that little one of yours down to the docks for a day at sea sometime soon? We'd love to have her assuming she'd enjoy the open water as much as last time."

" _Oh_ \- well, she does keep asking about the 'silly guy with the boat'," Ashley laughed as she gave him a dry rag from behind the counter. "So I'm sure that can be arranged."

Killian's face lit up with endearing possibility as he waved off one last sorry from the modern day Cinderella before he laid his vision back on a very glassy eyed and soon to be embarrassed Emma. His mouth quirked up into a smirk that could only be described as pure pirate and he straightened his shoulders as he appeared to catch onto what had her so enraptured.

"You know, love," he started, predictably arching his eyebrow. "I know you enjoy the sea to an extent, but had I known you had such a blatant affinity for _this_ sort of moisture as well, I would have had you join me in the shower this morning."

He grinned when her cheeks went red, his satisfaction in riling her up with such teasing words all too apparent. They'd participated in the act he was tempting her with several times and he knew _damn_ well just how much they'd _both_ enjoyed it. She could only hope she was the only one who'd noticed just how heavy their not so innocent flirting was becoming. The last thing Emma needed was an irate Granny with a wielded crossbow and some strict reminders on her PDA policy - after all, such rules had been enforced shortly after Killian had coaxed her into some far more enjoyable activities in the corner supply closet only a few weeks earlier.

"Perhaps later then," he said softly, patting down his wet shirt so the fabric tightened against his chest. "If you're feeling up to it, _that_ is."

Was he _kidding?_ Killian had always had a way with seductive yet permissive requests, but when he looked like _that_ \- all damp clothes and bright blue eyes - how the hell was she supposed to even _consider_ saying no?

"Is that a question-" Emma smiled curiously, trying to hide her obvious infatuation. "-or a proposition?"

"I guess you'll have to hurry home after work and find out," he answered, his tone lilting as he leaned down to kiss her. "Have a wonderful day, love. I've heard there's a possibility of rain later so do your best to stay…. _dry_."

His accent curved around the innuendo tainted words and Emma shook her head in a knowing fashion, her eyes following him in a steady trance. He was due at the docks soon and the realization that he would likely have to spend the morning in wet clothes was a thought Emma wanted desperately to entertain. _Work first_ , she tried to remind herself.

She hoped silently when he undid an extra button on his shirt before ducking out the door that their reunion later on would lead to her peeling it off him. If the smoldering wink he offered before heading out the door was any indication, it _definitely_ would. The decisive thought had barely crossed her mind when Emma noticed Granny leaning across the counter with her eyes glued to the door.

"Sorry about the mess, Granny," Emma offered, tilting her head in consideration of the elderly woman's apparent distraction. "I guess he's not gotten much better at watching where he's going."

"Can't say that I mind, Sheriff," Granny sighed as she reached for the mop, the blush on her cheeks a little more red than usual. "If I'd known his clumsiness would result in such an enticing sight, I might have tripped him myself."

Emma bit back her laughter as she ordered another cup of hot cocoa to go. The look of pure appreciation on the woman's face when she'd seen the wet pirate exiting the diner suggested that she better enjoy the hot drink while she could because water might soon be the _only_ beverage option available on the menu.

###### 

Patrolling the streets of Storybrooke was an activity that quickly became tiresome, especially once the overhead storm decided to let a steady rain pound the pavement. Emma set the cruiser into park just outside the station as she waited for the drops to cease before continuing on her familiar drive. Watching the water drizzle down the windshield, she found herself biting her lip at the memory of just how some accidental water had thrown her morning off just hours ago.

The steady rhythm of the rain seemed to suggest that this whole 'wet' thing was going to become a _very_ distracting pattern.

Her mind shifted to Killian - a typical train of thought really - as she listened to the soft splashing outside of her car door. She knew he'd be outside the majority of the day and though she wasn't completely sure how an extraordinarily ancient pirate occupied himself during work hours, Emma was quite certain he'd get a little chilled without a jacket - especially since the hooded gray one he'd taken to wearing on his days at the docks was currently sitting on her passenger seat. With a heavy sigh, Emma clicked her seatbelt and maneuvered the car back onto a nearly vacant Main Street. An innocent visit to see the smoldering and quite likely soaked man she'd dealt with at breakfast wasn't her best idea, but she couldn't let him _freeze_ , right?

 _Right_ , she convinced herself as she rolled into the parking spot just a few paces away from the Jolly Roger. Rolling her eyes at her inability to stay away, Emma nearly laughed at the real motive behind her visit. If it was truly just an innocent, _honest_ intention to check up on him…. _well_ , then she was Pinocchio.

"I know the bloody storm wasn't supposed to roll in this early, mate, but we play the cards we're dealt! Now go tie that _damn_ sail down before we lose it to the sea!"

His voice was demanding and dangerous as Emma caught the sound of it the instant she swung open the driver's side door. She knew he was likely barking directions at whatever dwarves had been put under his seaside command for the day and the way he ordered them about was something she had laughed at a few times before. Her smile was amused and slightly curious as his firm words seemed to pull her toward the wood planks of the boardwalk, a path of travel she couldn't seem to fight as she wandered closer. It was a choice that quickly proved perilous as she finally located the pirate who was one hundred percent in his _very_ wet element.

Getting her almost brand new red umbrella to open was suddenly a _lot_ more difficult than she remembered.

"Just need to tack down those ropes before the wind picks up," he yelled, nodding toward the ship deck as he checked the mast. "Then we best get the hell out of here - no sailing today!"

There were a handful of men - including a _very_ irritated Leroy - milling about as the rain fell heavily to the ground, but noticing much more beyond their mere presence was completely out of the question when the love of her life looked like he currently did. He was dressed rather casually for a captain and while his title now applied more to fishing boats than pirate ships, Emma noted instantly that his shift in jobs had done little to squander the passionate leadership he had always so easily exuded.

"Dwarf, it doesn't _bloody_ well matter what sort of knot you tie! Just do it before you tumble overboard!"

Emma felt her breath hitch as she took in the details that made up the dripping, devilishly handsome man on the boat deck. She had actually speculated that while in the Underworld, they'd find out he was some sort of Greek god - and as she watched him now, Emma found herself still puzzled over the reality that the trip _hadn't_ proven such a thing. He looked every bit the part as the rain fell around them - tanned skin, a focused stare, and body definition that would put Hercules to shame in a split _second_. Biting her tongue, Emma felt her gaze linger heavily on the wet stretch of his shirt over his biceps and the way some drenched denim emphasized his toned legs. She'd told him the night before that he needed a haircut, but now as his dark and very wet hair hung wildly over his eyes, she found herself wishing she'd _never_ made such a stupid suggestion. By the time he noticed her arrival, the rain had slowed somewhat - though it did nothing to calm the suspicious chills dancing along her skin.

 _Dammit_ , she thought as she pulled the hood of her new leather jacket up over her wavy hair. This was going to be a little more difficult than she expected - _especially_ because the look of surprise on his face was now all too victorious.

"Swan," he acknowledged, his mouth curved into a most handsome and slightly annoying smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Emma felt her eyes deceive her as he hopped up onto the side of the boat with much more careful feet than he'd had that morning. His grip curled around one of the firm ropes keeping the mast in place and his smug expression paired with the moisture rolling down his face prompted his free hand to swipe it away. Hearing the soft sound of his slick boots on the wood finally broke her out of whatever spell he had her under and she held up his jacket, not trusting her voice to remain steady under such distracting circumstances.

"I wondered where I'd left that," he said, a bit of teasing in his tone. "I appreciate you thinking of me, love….though I must know just _how_ much you've been doing that since breakfast?"

He _knew_. Of course, he _totally_ knew and he was _damn_ well aware of what he was doing now with his subtle inquisition. Placing a hand on her hip, Emma tried not allow the words 'open book' to run through her mind.

"I've been busy - don't you worry," she countered, hoping his retort wouldn't require any further admission on her part. "You're going to catch a cold out here if you don't put your coat on though. Nobody likes a sick pirate, Killian."

"Oh, come _on_ , love," he replied, raising an eyebrow as he shook the water off his dark hair and jumped down to land in front of her. "Is this you saying you wouldn't be willing to nurse me back to my ship-shape self?"

It was suddenly apparent just how much closer he'd sauntered and Emma felt her heart pound a little harder as she watched a few stray raindrops slide down his neck, their path following his collarbone in a manner that made a moan threaten to escape her throat. It was tempting to stand there a while longer just to see which trail of water would make its way to the dark hair peeking out of his shirt first, but letting him win this round of devious distraction was sure as hell not in the cards.

After all, he'd already done that _once_ today.

"Well, _Captain_ ," she answered as she narrowed her eyes playfully, straightening her stance with faux confidence. "I appreciate the interest, but if you don't knock it off, the sniffles will be the least of your health concerns."

" _Mmmm_ , love you too, darling," he laughed as he leaned in for a kiss. "Now go on and get back to work before _you_ get wet."

The salacious grin on his face as he waited for her to meet his lips was so frustratingly attractive that Emma could do nothing but give in. His kiss was wet and cold, but lingered with a suggestive fire that seemed to hold the promise of later. Watching his soaked shirt emphasize the muscles of his back was surely a mistake and as Emma fought viciously with her malfunctioning umbrella, she hoped desperately that David might let her take a sick day for the rest of the afternoon because honestly - how the hell could she be expected to work _now?_

###### 

The station was slow by the time she returned, looking the part of a drowned rat courtesy of the umbrella she'd broken in an effort to get away from the temptation she'd walked _right_ into. Dragging a hand through her drenched hair with a shiver and a few subtle curses, Emma tried to think of a suitable explanation for her appearance - something she didn't end up having to do when her dad peered up at her curiously over the newspaper he'd been thumbing through.

"Still raining I guess," he smiled, lifting an eyebrow. "Didn't you just buy a new-"

"Ugh, _yes_ I did," she grumbled as she shivered. "Do you care if I run home and change into something warmer? The heater in the bug isn't the best."

"I'm well aware of that," David chuckled as he tossed her one of the blankets they usually kept in the cruiser. "Actually, it's been pretty slow here so if you want to take off for the rest of the day, I'll keep an eye on things here."

"Are you sure?"

"Well if my choices are that or sweating to death when you turn up the radiator-" he sighed, nodding toward the beat-up hunk of metal that warmed up the room. "-then I'm going to go with the first option."

Giving him a thankful yet exaggerated glare, Emma zipped up her jacket once more and staggered toward the double glass doors. She'd never been happier to head home early - especially because a few extra hours would give her plenty of time to prepare for whatever Killian had up his very wet sleeve. Lord knows he'd probably been scheming.

"Son of a bitch."

The sentiment escaped her in a whisper when she reached the house, the front door closing behind her as she noticed his boots sitting beside the rug. Hearing the sound of the shower shut off as she glanced up the hallway, Emma wondered just why she'd allowed herself to believe she'd beat him home - especially because there wasn't much work to be had outside in the middle of a Storybrooke storm. Kicking off her own soaked shoes and dropping her jacket on the nearest chair, she weighed her options as she tried to calculate his long he'd been home. Letting her feet fall quietly on the floorboards, Emma moved slowly toward the bathroom in curiosity. The words he'd said in the diner that morning echoed in her mind as she pushed carefully on the wood door, causing the escaping steam to brush against her skin while catching sight of the pirate who'd made her a very intriguing promise over breakfast.

As much as her mind had been wandering, she definitely had _not_ been expecting this.

Small splashes of water lined the tile of the bathroom floor, a careless detail Emma was suddenly unable to complain about. The shower door was still foggy and served as a hell of a backdrop for the barefooted man she'd been daydreaming about all day - yes, the devilishly handsome one who currently wore nothing but a towel hanging from his slim hips. His skin was flushed from the heat of the water and her eyes followed the path of freckles down his neck to his shoulder, the moisture left behind by the shower making him look extra tempting.

"See something you like, love?"

His voice was knowing and sudden, making Emma jump as she leaned against the doorframe. His gaze quickly found her as he peered over his shoulder, droplets of water clinging to the scruff along his jaw as he gave her that usual smirk. His stance was somehow drop dead sexy as his toes flexed against the floor and he used a spare towel to dry his head with a quick motion.

"I didn't know you were going to be home this early," she replied, maintaining some sense of sanity as he took a few steps closer. "A little inclement weather and the docks shut down, huh?"

" _Ah_ , well, I'd say that you aren't supposed to be home yet either-" he said, his accent heavy as he stared at her lips. "-but I'm glad that you are."

His blue gaze was full of admiration and something that looked an awful lot like lust. Emma felt heat spread across her skin as his mouth lingered just above hers, his tongue swiping slowly over his lip as he seemed to challenge her. He'd been doing that all day and avoiding the desire to play into his little game was getting more difficult by the second. Of course, they hadn't exactly been alone during those little exchanges - but _now_ they were.

 _Thank god_ , she thought with relief as he moved forward, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

It didn't take long for the simple moment to evolve into a very heated one - one where his hands moved with skill and purpose as he tugged her shirt over her head the instant he'd finished pulling off her jeans. His fingers wound lazily in her tangled, quickly drying hair and he let his touch navigate her bare skin with deftness as he laid soft kisses along her neckline. Their steps shuffled as he shifted them fully into the room and they somehow managed to make it back to the place he'd been standing when he spotted her, the little wet spots under her toes making Emma flinch. The world seemed to disappear around them and her mind went hazy as he removed the few remaining pieces of clothing, the fabric piling at their feet as he lifted her onto the bathroom counter. Her legs parted as he stepped between and when his fingertips trailed down her sides, Emma found herself extremely grateful that he'd allowed her to sit. Sure, she was the savior, but there was no possible way to remain steadily on her feet when he was touching her like _that._

"Bloody _hell,_ Emma," he gasped, grinning against her jaw as his thumb teased her bare center. "You're so w-"

"I know," she cut in, her breath trembling as his teeth nipped at her neck and his hand continued to explore. "So w-wet."

"Mmmm," he breathed, pulling her mouth to his as the towel fell to the tile. " _Very_ ….wet."

His words are so perfectly punctuated that Emma shudders, her mind reeling back through all the times they'd previously been together in this most unexpected part of the house. His hips shift quickly as he slides home, her body so attuned to his that her eyes close and their mouths still meet instantly in a tangled kiss. His hand wind lazily into her damp hair as he moves and the remaining water in his own dark mane falls to her bare chest, rolling down her flesh as she holds tight to his biceps. A barely audible grunt meets her ears and Emma's teeth find her lower lip when his lips pull back. The sound of his labored breath tells her he's close and both of his hands fall strongly to her thighs. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he sinks deep and suddenly she's there - the euphoric, blissful end that he's pushed her to countless times. It doesn't take long for him to follow her, his loving praises against her neck making her shiver as he finally lets go. It's different from the time before - the late night rounds they'd indulged in the previous evening - but then again, it's always different.

It's always more. The way he loves her and shows her will always be more - even when he's just taken a now pointless shower that she wouldn't mind helping him repeat.

"Well," he smirked, his forehead resting against hers. "I suppose that's one way to derail my plans."

"What plans-" Emma smiled, her lips reaching for his. "-did you have?"

"That tub has been rather unused as of late," he explained as his fingertips traced her cheek. "I was hoping you'd help rectify that."

"That can probably be arranged," she agreed with a raised eyebrow. "I'll grab some towels."

"Thanks, love," he grinned, switching on the faucet and adjusting the temperature. "Oh and maybe some-"

"Bubble bath," she laughed, finishing his sentence and reveling in the cheeky expression on his face. "I _know_."

###### 

Rain was still rolling down the window pane the following morning as Emma poured a cup of coffee for herself and then one for the man who had kept her warm until the alarm clock went off that morning. They'd spent a while in the bathtub the evening before and even longer in a late night shower that led to her going to bed with wet hair, but the chill that such a decision should have brought was warded off by a fluffy blanket and a cuddly pirate. She'd slept amazing as the rhythm of the rain and his shallow breathing lulled her into a solid slumber and for the first time in….well, _ever_ \- she'd woken up before him. Watching him snooze had been a tempting idea, but remembering the long list of to-do's she'd skipped over the day before, Emma decided to try to check some off those tasks off without the distraction that his adorable bedhead and early innuendos would eventually bring. She smiled to herself over the tiny victory she'd had cleaning up the kitchen all morning and grabbed a Pop-Tart while trying not to think of the many, many ways such a room could be creatively…. _disheveled._

"Swan, do you know…. _whoa!"_

The alert sound of Killian's voice caught her attention and she looked up in time to see him come around the corner - and slip on the wood floor underfoot. Watching as he gripped the wall for stability with his eyes wide and his mouth open, Emma brought her mug to her lips to hide her victorious laughter. _This_ was karma at its best.

"What in the _bloody_ hell-"

"Oh, I should have told you I mopped the floor this morning," she smirked, biting her lip as she propped her elbows up on the table. "I guess the floor is still a _little_ ….wet."

"Ah, it appears that way," he nodded with a slow spreading grin, his stance straightening. " _Quite_ the foe all this water is becoming, love. As a woman of that law, what do you plan to do about that?"

"Hmmm, _well_ ," Emma mused, noticing far too quickly that his dark unruly hair was still damp from the night before. "I guess I'll think of something."


	20. Pieces of The Past - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is part 2 of Pieces of the Past (my sequel to Hardly Ancient History) - rated M for good reason!

"Excellent work, Em," David smiled, holding up a sparkling glass of champagne in cheers. "I'm going to touch base with a few donors - maybe see if we can wrangle some support for the school field trip funding for next year. Want to join me?"

"Well, as _riveting_ as that sounds," Emma teased as she clinked her own crystal against his. "I was thinking I'd go ahead and wander for a bit. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," David assured her with a nod. "Take as much time as you need - you deserve a break after all this."

"Yeah," she laughed. "I'll be sure to tell my boss that you think so."

David chuckled softly as they parted, his shoulders straightening as he turned to shake the hand of someone who was probably part of a much higher pay grade than either of them. Emma let out a breath of relief at the fact that her boss was allowing her to opt out of the formalities that always followed the main event, but her anxiety spiked slightly when she realized she still had one person who she needed to track down.

Now exactly what she was going to say once she did so….well, _that_ was something she'd yet to work out.

She wasn't entirely sure how she'd made her way to the display that was usually under constant observation. They'd departed so quickly all those months ago that Emma hadn't had much time to see the reactions the recently improved ancient weaponry exhibit drew from the museum guests back when her handsome archaeological counterpart had initially delivered the warrior's sword back into her possession, but watching people appreciate the small part of her work - well, _their_ work in Greece had become a rewarding pastime since she'd returned.

Gazing upward at the beautiful, ivory handled blade where it was mounted alongside several others on the walls enclosing the area instantly summoned a memory - one where the calm of a Nile valley night had prodded them to discuss another genre of walls and the emotional bricks she'd used to build them. It had been an sincere moment that had earned a pleased smile from Killian and the soft stroke of his careful thumb over her cheek when she'd told him that knocking down those barriers didn't feel so difficult anymore. His accepting reassurances replayed themselves in her head, his astounding faith in her still so evident despite his absence over the past few weeks.

" _What if I told you that I kind of like your walls?"_

" _You….do?"_

" _Aye, love. I like being the one to break them down."_

Emma felt a few tears being to gather at the corners of her eyes, the conclusion that he wasn't going anywhere he couldn't return from finally settling in her bones. She hadn't told him her plan yet - the decision she'd been debating to turn her job over to someone else if he'd merely offer the alternative she was hoping for. Seeing him jet off to another project without being able to accompany and antagonize him wasn't something she wanted to allow, but the need for him to _ask_ that she join him was a requirement she didn't think she could bend on.

Maybe she wouldn't have to. Perhaps they actually wanted the same thing. Perhaps it was time they admit it to each other.

He _loved_ her though - the truth of that was plain as could be in the pause he'd taken during his charming answer on stage. The emotion of that moment had barreled into her as she'd watched him bite his tongue in careful recovery and when she finally witnessed a knowing smirk encompass his lips, she wondered how she'd never seen it before. Emma let her mind rush through the past few months as the real question encircled her like a Saharan sandstorm.

Was she in love with him _too?_

She'd thought about it once or twice, the possibility making her heart race each time it crossed her thoughts. It had been almost impossible to deny it from the start - the way he was so easy to fall for - but she'd put up a hell of a fight and giving way to what was certainly prodding her feelings was something she only did in independent settings like the one she found herself in now. Her eyes glued to the sword, Emma reminisced just how far they'd come and just how much more open she'd become to the idea of love. It was a path she was likely headed for and for once, her instinct to bolt now wavered while she recalled some instances where maybe - just _maybe_ \- she had actually started to feel that specific way about the man who'd reminded her of who she was meant to be.

It had become even more taxing over the past few weeks to battle that four letter word as they worked alongside one another. She'd pondered it when she watched him assist in cracking open a fragile tomb, his hands calculated and gentle while his stare focused firmly. She'd entertained it when she caught him stumbling over a site marker jutting out of the dirt which led to him wandering toward her, the following whispered request of super glue nearly making her laugh out loud as she tried not to think of the thousands of things he might have broken. There was a growing wealth of quirky observations continually nudging her in the direction of that definitive sentiment - the big three worded admission - and though she never planned on it going like this, it wasn't a total shock that it had.

Honestly, with his adoring words and studious blue eyes, she'd probably never stood a chance - and that definitely _wasn't_ the worst luck imaginable. Now she just needed to find a way to hold onto it.

The hundredth sigh she'd let go of that evening didn't help much with calming her worry and as she finally peeled herself away from the findings of an adventure they shared long ago, Emma decided that there was only person who might be able to divest her of this odd anxiety she felt. Locating the time on a nearby wall clock told her he'd likely be done appeasing the world of academia soon and with a subtle glance toward the elevator, she pondered the idea of taking refuge in the space where they'd ended up in an honest conversation the last time he'd walked through the museum entrance - well, talking among _other_ things.

The dull ding of the elevator could barely be heard over the fading sounds of chatter and chaos, but as Emma stepped in and pushed the 'B' button, she decided that a quiet place was somehow just what she needed. After all, several items for the European history showcase had recently been delivered and there were likely still a few checklists to run through or perhaps some paperwork to be filed - both tasks that could serve as worthy distractions for a little while. A small smile pulled at her lips as the doors closed slowly and she imagined just what Killian would probably say if he saw her descending to the lowest level of the museum in search of menial jobs to do.

 _Workaholic_ , she thought with a happy shake of her head - and perhaps he was right.

###### 

She'd been in near shock the day David had beckoned her to the loading dock to witness the unpacking of the loaned artifacts from a London museum and though that had been almost a week earlier, Emma's reaction still hadn't changed. She still had no idea how he'd managed to procure such fragile, beautiful pieces of history - though something suggested his phone calls to a suspiciously flirty Ms. Blanchard, their assistant curator, _might_ have played a part in that - but they'd somehow ended up with the components to an unbelievably beautiful exhibit.

Flipping the few lights that brightened the wide open basement storage area, Emma let her fingertips trail carefully along the items as she started the process of awed admiration all over again. There were a few smaller furniture type objects perched on the wooden shipping pallets close by - a Victorian era armoire, a small astronomical clock, and several Rembrandt paintings. Her boss had even managed to get them to include a full scale reproduction of Michelangelo's _David_ , which Emma was sure he'd _probably_ requested in an awkward yet harmlessly selfish way.

It was all beyond impressive, but none of it could compete properly with the main piece of the collection - the remarkably crafted Great Bed of Ware.

Emma paused at the foot of the large four post oak frame, the carved feet working with the adjacent overwrought headboard. The bed itself had been shipped in pieces, but they'd assembled it in the basement to check for damages before the unveiling and Emma had pleaded with David to leave it that way in support of letting her study it before the public was able to. She'd spent a few nights examining the exquisite marquetry - everything from the arched panels that depicted pictures of life in the town of Ware during the Elizabethan era to the dozens of sporadic initials carved into the wood above the mattress. She'd spent several nights examined the curves of the letters etched there, her mind creating a story for the pairs of lovers who'd chosen to leave their mark. The hanging curtains and bedding were all reproductions of the time period, but their red and gold stitching was still simply striking.

She was still wondering how she'd become so instantly infatuated with a place that many people had used for everything from sleeping to a little less sleepy endeavors. It was a strange fascination, but she couldn't help the way the mystery of it pulled her in.

Stepping back from the sheets for a moment, Emma glanced around to check for the last object she'd been so intrigued by. Near a reconstructed end table was the lavish chair that made up a suite of furniture once commissioned for Marie Antoinette, the controversial queen who David _still_ insisted was not worth 'losing your head over'. Emma rolled her eyes at the memory of his cheesy joke as she took a minute to admire the way the blue fabric and gold paint - a duo that was often repetitive in royal furniture she'd worked with - came together to create such a lovely item. She'd barely noted the dark suit jacket thrown over the back of the chair when her phone began buzzing, the ring faintly audible as it played the Indiana Jones theme song.

 _Speaking of history repeating,_ she thought as his display picture lit up the screen - a photo she always laughed at of him giving skeptical side eye to a golden cat statue their team had recovered from a temple site.

"Evening, Dr. Jones," she answered, the phone at her ear as she looked around the room. "I was hoping I'd be hearing from you."

"Well, I'm nothing if not admirably consistent in interrupting your work hours," he returned, a slight laugh in his words. "You're in the basement, aren't you?"

Of _course_ he knew where she was. Whether it was mausoleums or museums, that man always found her - and the blue bandana she quickly realized was hanging from one of the bedposts was only further proof of that.

"Well, _that's_ a little creepy," she playfully told him, reaching up to grab the discarded article he'd worn often back in Egypt. "Almost like you only know where to find me because _you're_ down here as well."

"Of course I am," he confirmed with a bit of cleverness in his accent. "I had to retrieve the gift I promised you after all, but I must say I didn't expect to be so pleasantly distracted by what was already stored down here."

 _Dammit_ , Emma thought with a sigh. She hadn't mentioned her recent work endeavors in hopes of avoiding this sort of scandalous conversation. Killian had a knack for turning even the most innocent of instances into sexually charged circumstances and telling him about the bed would have put her in the same position they'd found themselves in when she told him about a particular London museum's upcoming _History of Underwear_ exhibit.

For the record, _that_ outcome had resulted both of them wearing nothing - the article of clothing under academic review in England _included_.

"Yeah, I must have failed to mention it for _some_ reason," she fibbed, knowing full well how unconvincing she was. "I'd be willing to fill you in if you're free though."

"Hmmm," he said curiously. "That's quite the appealing offer."

She laughed softly, focusing for a minute on the feel of the well worn bandana in her hand. Letting her eyes trace the paisley pattern scrawled across the navy fabric, she failed to notice the call disconnecting - but what she heard next wasn't something even her elaborate memories could distract her from.

"Honestly, Swan," a voice from behind her started, the familiar tone making Emma's body tingle. "I've got to say that you have _certainly_ outdone yourself this time."

As a relieved, happy smile spread across her lips, she spun to face her endearing accuser. He'd shed his jacket - the evidence of that both on the chair she'd noticed earlier and very much in the way his white shirt sleeves were now rolled up to his elbows. Watching him saunter closer with that slight spring in his step and a familiarly cocked eyebrow was something she'd wanted to do for weeks, but Emma realized quickly that no amount of anticipation could have prepared her for just how fitting this was.

"That's my line I think," she replied, tilting her head sideways. "You're usually the one orchestrating the extraordinary."

"Nonsense, love," he shook his head as he finally paused in front of her, pulling her in for a hug and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Though we both know your talents range far and wide, tonight is certainly indication that you can throw a hell of a party too."

"Hmmm, pretty sure you already knew _that_ ," Emma returned, her eyes closing a moment at the touch of his lips on her skin. "I'm think we've been through this little song and dance before, Dr. Jones."

"That we have, but this time, my astonishment is rooted in the fact that you've opened up the realm of innuendo so vastly with _this_ -" he grinned, gesturing toward the large furniture before them. "-piece of furniture that I can't even decide where to begin."

His little quip was filled with that trademark Killian Jones seduction factor, but there was something else to be said about the way he kissed her. His hands rose to her face, guiding her mouth to his as she melted into his touch. The emotion behind the movement of his lips should have been alarming, but finally being in his arms brought about a calmness that Emma hadn't felt in weeks. She _needed_ this simple moment - she could tell him everything she truly intended to later.

"So," Emma said softly with a satisfied sigh. "Are you going to tell me what you're _really_ up to down here?"

"Just waiting for you, darling," he smirked. "Besides, where else would I be?"

Emma felt her stomach flip flop as she briefly entertained the idea of him being anywhere but with her. As Killian started searching her features with that look of utmost concern in his narrowed eyes, she knew the vulnerability they seemed to continually approach was waiting just below the surface of their playful banter. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, encouraging her smile and she couldn't deny the desire to inquire as to whatever shenanigans he'd been up to on the lowest floor of the museum.

"I should probably be cautious when it comes to accepting presents from you," she teased as she brushed the hair off his forehead. "They tend to come with a price."

"As does _most_ magic, love," he countered in amusement, pulling her around to the other side of the bed's headboard. "But I can tell you that in this case, you'll be quite pleased with my genorosity."

Emma was about to raise an eyebrow at his vague response when he tilted his head sideways toward the ground. She followed his direction with her confused stare, her heart beating quickly and a strange happiness overcoming her when she noticed just what he'd decided to bring home from their archaeological endeavor.

"I'll have you know that I brought this back despite some rather irritated glares," he explained as he nodded toward the industrial drum fan at their feet. "There are definitely several _very_ annoyed, fan-less interns completing the last of the brushwork back at the site."

She couldn't help the near giggle that fell from her surprised mouth as she took stock of the one thing she'd negotiated the last time they stood in building now housing their current historical efforts. It hadn't been a difficult battle to win - he'd even let her select the one she wanted online while they'd endured a long layover at the airport en route to Cairo. The piece of metal equipment was shinier than she remembered and it became evident after a little inspection that he had certainly put some cleaning time into this - especially when she noticed the 'Property of Emma Swan' declaration he'd written in blue Sharpie along the side.

It was such a dorky thing to do - to be so adamant in returning something she'd demanded he include if she was going to work with him again - but for some reason, it made her love him even more. Well, assuming _that_ was possible. She hadn't completely worked out the logistics just yet.

"I must say it's one of the stranger items I've had to arrange transport for-" he started, scratching at the thick scruff along his jaw. "-and that's coming from a guy who has had to set up travel plans for dozens of human remains over the past decade."

"You know you didn't have to bring it back," she replied, shaking her head still in amused disbelief. "Unlike the fiery caverns of Sahara hell, we _do_ have central air and very modern technology here, Killian."

"Well, I stick to my word, love. Besides, it was either ship it here or keep it in a dusty storage locker for you to bring along to our next dig site. Jury's still out on where that might be, but how do you feel about another summer in Greece?"

Emma felt her posture stiffen as he rambled a bit, her mind trying to process the assumption he'd just made in a such a sweetly casual manner. She had spent so many hours over their time apart wondering just how this conversation might occur - if he'd ask her to come with him or if she'd tell him to stay and every combination in between. She hadn't expected him to be so certain of her or of them, but the confirmation of him wanting them to be together wherever history might lead was all the encouragement she needed.

"It probably won't be an open contract for a while, but there's a new warrior tomb they're starting excavation on and since you've got an academic upper hand on war anthropology and a _strong_ desire to prove me wrong, I thought maybe we could-"

"I love you."

The air grew thick immediately, a mix of disbelief and something else filling his expression as he stood a bit straighter. Emma felt her face grow hot as her mind pieced together what she'd just so impulsively blurted out. Oh, god - _this_ was not how she'd meant to address the feelings that had been prodding her since the last time he'd approached her in the low light of the museum's basement. Time seemed to slow as she waited for him to say something in response or retort and she wondered just how quickly she could recant such unexpected words if needed. Just when she was sure that he was about to book the first flight out of here and back to a simpler yet much more ancient time, he let go of a deep breath he'd apparently been holding and tilted his head just as an honest smile stretched over his smooth lips.

"Killian, _I_ ….that's not…. _just_ -"

Her attempt to speak was halted instantly. She was almost sure she'd never seen him look so completely happy - not even when he'd heard about the recent discovery of an inexplicably large ancient city in Honduras or even when his work on proving the feathered connection between birds and dinosaurs had finally been confirmed by an amber preserved tail found in China. Killian had a strong passion for his work and every inch of history he'd encountered, but it was obvious now in his brilliantly blue eyes that his deep love for the past had extended to include her and whatever timeline they'd end up following.

"I….I love you too."

Her mind had barely started counting the worries she could now rid herself of when his lips slammed into hers with a fervor only he was capable of. They moved in perfect unison, her head tilting opposite of his and then back while his hand threaded through her hair and her palms pressed on his chest. She wasn't sure how long they stood there locked in such a heated instance, but the quiet chuckle he emitted after they finally pulled away prompted her eyes to lazily focus.

"Something funny, Dr. Jones?"

"It's just….I always figured I'd be the one that had to say that first," he teased, brushing a long blonde tendril away from her cheek. "Vulnerability suits you, Swan."

"Mmmm, _right_ ," she grumbled in feigned annoyance. "I guess you just bring out the hopeless romantic in me."

"Mission accomplished then, love," he quipped as he moved his hands to her back. "So, let's see what else I can talk you into."

It didn't take long for the resumed kiss to evolve as heat pulsed through Emma's veins, her breath short and gasping between gentle caresses of his mouth. It was amazing that after so many restless nights apart, he was able to bring her back to life with little more than his lips, but that was certainly what he was doing as his touch grazed her jaw and his opposite hand rested on her hip.

 _God_ , the man could kiss.

"Love, are _we_ ….will anyone…."

His question was abandoned quickly as he opted for a quick glance to his sides, his caution to keep their professionalism intact a sweet gesture as she shook her head with a smile. Emma moved her hands to his shirt buttons, alternating them with the loosening of his black tie. The basement was always quiet and rarely visited, but she couldn't warrant him for wanting to make sure they wouldn't be stumbled upon. Whatever was about to unfold _definitely_ wouldn't succumb to interruption - not when they'd been apart this long.

"Just us," Emma breathed, her body vibrating beneath his anxious touch. " _Finally_."

"Thank god," he gasped, his hand moving down her back quickly and taking the zipper of her dress with it. "I've had enough waiting."

The black and gold garment she'd picked out for the evening hit the floor, pooling at her feet as he swept her back into a needy kiss while she kicked her heels aside. A surprised sound fell from her lips when he lifted her unexpectedly, their mouths parting for a second as he gripped the underside of her thighs and her legs tightened around his waist. The cool material of his tie and open dress shirt brushed against her bare skin as one of the buttons hitched on the smooth lace covering her chest, the feel of such friction make her shiver and hold tighter to his neck.

"Missed you-" he managed, rutting his hips upward in a teasing motion."- _so_ much."

"Mmmm," she mumbled mid groan. "You have no idea."

"I've got _several_ ideas, Swan," he replied, glancing toward the lavish bedding and wood frame. "Though I'm sure most of them would go against your workplace standards."

Emma felt her heart skip a few beats as she watched passion spark in his gaze, his eyes clearly just waiting for her to give the go ahead. Letting his tantalizing fingers trace her spine, she knew she shouldn't be willing to even give half a thought to folding - no, _this_ piece of history was beyond valuable and it was her responsibility to keep it safe. Feeling his breath hot against her skin, Emma decided quickly that her job to do so was definitely in jeopardy seeing as how there was _nothing_ safe about how much this man seemed to need her. Her head grew foggy as she started working his shirt off his shoulders.

" _Swan_ ," he pleaded. "Where, love? _Tell_ me-"

 _Screw it,_ Emma quickly concluded. Historical or not, it _was_ a bed after all - and it's not like they hadn't taken a few risks similar to this one in the past.

"Over-" Emma whispered, letting her fingertips press lightly against the back of his neck as she nodded toward the object he was clearly contemplating. "- _there_."

It took him a moment to process her willingness to break the rules, his mouth eventually twitching into the sensual smile she'd been waiting for. His feet moved fast and she almost squealed at the way he lowered them onto the quilted surface, a half groan in his throat as he hovered over her.

Lord, how did she ever think she'd be able to turn _this_ down?

Watching her finally fall fully back against the surprisingly plush mattress, his eyes went dark with that hint of defiance she loved so much about him. His mouth soon followed the trail of his studious gaze, hot kisses meeting the expanse of flesh from her throat to her hipbone with a brief pause as he tugged away the last bit of clothing keeping her concealed. Appreciation and lust took over his stare and his wandering tongue told her just how much he loved her like this, his scorching mouth teasing her nipple.

"So beautiful, Emma," he exhaled, a pleading quality in his praise. "Want you here…. _now_."

"Yes….please, _yes_ ," she begged, unable to fight it as his mouth moved back to his hip to suck a mark into her pale skin. "Can't wait….anymore."

He stood up rapidly, the brush of his coarse chest hair on her naked chest making her tremble. She somehow focused enough to hear him yank his belt off, the buckle making a soft thud as he tossed it onto the rug underfoot. His well fitted pants followed, one gentle pull down his legs releasing the throbbing erection he quickly stroked a few times in preparation.

"Very spacious looking-" he grinned, nipping at her bottom lip as his hand ran lazily over the sheets. "-though I must say I don't have the exact measurements for this particular antique."

"Ten by-" Emma returned, her voice coming in gasps when his kiss marked her neck. "-eleven feet."

"Mmmm, _quite_ the wealth of inches then," he breathed as his teeth scraped lightly against her ear. "It'd be a shame to not use every one of them."

He crawled toward her, the weight of his toned body promising her everything she'd been thinking of since their kiss behind the curtain. His mouth started the slow process of ravaging her neckline and Emma was quite positive that he would wreck her with the heated combination of his teeth and a very thorough tongue. With a quick lift, he moved them further onto the bed and Emma let her head sink into one of the embroidered pillows. Her labored gasp met the dwindling space between them when he finally settled between her legs, the feel of him hot against her inner thigh making her vibrate beneath him as he anchored his arms on each side of her head.

"I don't think you realize how much I've missed you, Swan."

"I might," she smiled, biting her bottom lip. "You've mentioned it….a few times."

"Aye," he confirmed with a lazy grin. "And now I'm going to show you."

His kiss picked up where it had paused, the tender motion of it making her hips jump. Emma felt her body tense as he rubbed against her, his hard length sliding back and forth with promise but not enough to make her unravel. She caught the subtly smug way he smiled against her lips as he moved and though her senses were hazy with desire, it didn't take long to figure out what he was up to.

He was teasing her - and she'd _certainly_ been here before.

Well, they _both_ had. Feeling her frustration mounting as she tried to coax him forward with a light squeeze of his leg, she was reminded of a time she'd tormented him much like this back in Egypt. His back had been flush against the side of one of the government jeeps on site and she'd kneeled in the dirt, letting his hand tangle in her ponytail while her tongue traced the vein pulsing along his hard length. The fall of night in the desert had shielded them quite well, but his groans of ' _more_ ' and ' _please, love_ ' had nearly given them away to the rest of the crew before she even pulled him inside a vacant trailer for more detailed study.

Sure, she'd been all for working him up and winding him down that night as well as many others, but right _now_ ….right now, she needed more.

" _Killian_ …."

"Be _patient_ , love," he told her, pressing down a little more firmly before resuming his actions. "It's a big bed - and we have a _lot_ to cover."

"That's not….this _isn't_ ….we _have_ to be quick-"

"That is highly unlikely, darling," he warned as his lips pressed a trail of kisses down her chest. "Besides, if by some travesty it _is_ quick, we'll just have to try again….and maybe _again_."

"Killian…. _god_ , I need-"

"I _know_ ," he nodded, pulling her legs up around his waist as he aligned himself. "I know what you need, love."

He entered fast, his smooth effort making her whole body keen as she tried to reacquaint herself with the desire settling in her bones. His mouth was hot on her neck, his tongue running slowly along her collarbone as he gave an experimental thrust that confirmed she wouldn't be able to withstand the mounting pleasure for long. He pushed deeper when her hands reached for his shoulderblades, his hips heavy enough to send her over the heightened edge with a moan that was louder than she expected. She pulsed around him and he succumbed to a soft groan, the audible proof of just how badly he wanted to join her in ecstasy. Her fingernails dug gently into his scalp while his hips circled lightly enough that she could ride out the moment of bliss slowly. Finally catching her breath, Emma ran her fingers through the dark hair she'd been clutching and he smirked a second before his lips moved back to hers.

"Can't say I haven't thought of that a lot recently," he whispered, his words a lilted mumble that made her head spin as she kissed him. "Enough to drive a man _insane_ , darling."

"Mmmm," she hummed with a sated smile. "So you really _did_ miss me."

"Every part of you, love," he answered as his lips reached for hers. "Much more than you know."

His forehead lowered to hers with the strong grip of his warm hands falling back to her thighs as he prompted her to tighten her legs around his waist again. Emma's fingertips fought for stability as she gripped the sheets, the satin material still slick in her grip when he shifted to his knees in a swift motion. The way he pulled her further into his lap was the rough sort of passionate and when he lifted her, her arms somehow found their way around his neck. He settled quickly, extending his legs beneath her and giving her a minute to find whatever composure she could before he rolled his hips upward a few times.

" _Oh_ \- Killian…."

Emma was vaguely aware of how desperate her words sounded, the aching in her voice almost emotional as he wrapped her in a tight embrace before he continued moving. His forehead fell to her shoulder as the hot air escaping his lungs brushed her chest and Emma felt her body give in, a pattern of rocking steadily making her shiver. Her mouth was lost to his while her hands rested firmly at the back of his head, the gentle scrape of her fingernails ruffling his dark hair. She was sure he was going to end her as everything heightened, every solid inch of him sliding forth and dragging back with their mutual moans falling into perfect rhythm. Killian's hand pressed hard between her shoulders as she approached the edge, determined to pull him down with her as she rode him a bit faster.

They'd been together many times - a number they'd struggled to truly deduce one night when counting seemed like an interesting feat - but _never_ like this. This was different. _This_ was more.

" _Emma_ \- love, _please_ ," he pleaded, encouraging her to grind down on him with a firm and loving hold around her heaving torso. "Need you…."

"Don't stop, Killian. Just don't-" she gasped, her mouth open as he swallowed the sounds she couldn't stop making. - _ever_ stop…."

"So perfect," he returned with a mumble against her neck. "Bloody hell, I love you…."

Her back began to arch as his teeth teased her jaw, the heat on her flesh almost too much. Being with him _should_ have been too much, but in that moment, she could think only of how right it was - and how right it would always be if she'd let it.

"Emma…. _I-"_

"I'm close," she stuttered with a hard grind of her hips. "I love you….so much, Killian."

"Then _come_ with me," his needy request beckoned. "Let go, my love-"

" _Oh_ , yes, I'm-" she nearly screamed with a bite of her lower lip. "- _right_ there. I'm…. _I'm_ going to…."

Emma felt herself pulse around him, a jolt of pleasure surrounding her as she finally collapsed. It took only a moment for him to follow, one last thrust making him shake when he released with a loud grunt she'd never heard before. She kept him close as he fell through a rush of euphoria that kept them moving, their bodies fitting together impossibly as they toppled backward onto the slightly squeaky mattress. Killian's chest heaved as he held her and she felt her world slowly come back in focus. His thumb brushed back and forth over her bare shoulder in a relaxed way that certainly could have tempted her to sleep between the smooth sheets - well, until a tender kiss against her wavy hair reminded Emma of just how naked they were in a bed that was definitely a step up from a tent in the desert but still very much _not_ theirs.

"Well," Killian sighed, his smirk evident as he spoke. "That was-"

"Oh, _god_ ," Emma blushed as she covered her face, his beard tickling her cheek. "We are officially the worst."

"It certainly didn't feel that way, love," he disagreed as his half hard erection twitched against her thigh. " _Very_ far from it actually."

"I just mean that we seem to fail at being proper historians sometimes," she clarified with a gesture toward the furniture they were resting upon. "I'm pretty sure there's a curse lingering somewhere in one of the site tombs that will catch up to us eventually."

"I guess I'm willing to take my chances, Swan. I'm quite sure that this-" he smiled, his eyebrow raised. "-was one for the history books."

"That is _such_ a cliche," she groaned as he twisted a piece of her hair around his finger. "Pretty cheesy even for you."

"Mmmm," he chuckled. "Something tells me you might be okay with that."

Emma smiled against the dark hair on his chest, her heart beating wildly as she realized he was right - somehow, she didn't mind his definitive words at all.

###### 

The museum was vacant by the time Emma stepped off the elevator and into the dim lobby. She'd been beyond grateful that multiple sets of linens had been included in the bed's shipment alongside a note from the cheerful curator about how she wasn't sure which option would be the favorite so she'd ordered a few styles. Emma hadn't really anticipated the second sheets being a necessity, but when she watched Killian deftly button his shirt while peering at the elaborate stitching, she found her guilt to be a lot less than it should be.

The last guests had probably just recently left and she snuck past two of the night janitors while noticing David's office lights were off up the staircase to her right. She'd shooed her distracting colleague away while she finished restoring their surroundings to an appropriate state, silently thanking god that she hadn't scuffed up the wood panels when her hands had been grasping for purchase mid reunion. At first, it wasn't that difficult to make it look like nothing had happened, but then she'd noticed the small carving of their paired initials below the bedpost. Apparently a certain someone wanted her to remember just how much had actually occurred in that darkened corner of the storage area.

Emma's heels clicked purposefully on the hard floor as she started toward the place she was almost sure he'd be waiting. He'd become almost too easy to read somewhere between that scorching summer in Greece and the months in the heart of Egypt's ancient history. Turning the corner to the well lit display she'd been checking up on just a little while earlier, Emma couldn't help but beam at just how good she was.

"You have an _entire_ empty museum to yourself, Jones," she said with amusement, a lazy hand on her hip as she strode slowly toward him. "But here you are. Kind of predictable, don't you think?"

She couldn't stop her smirk as she sent the smug accusation his way, her pulse beating heavily when he turned on his heel to meet her observant gaze. His hair was a riotous dark mess and he looked adorably exhausted. _For good reason,_ she thought quietly as she walked toward him pursed lips.

"Hey, someone has to make sure you're displaying the evidence of our accord proudly," he teased, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her hair. "For the record, I still think I got the better end of that deal."

Emma laughed against his chest, breathing in the scent of his shirt with a nuzzle. He'd said that same thing a few times back in Egypt, usually while watching her narrow her eyes in amazement at whatever they'd just dug up or during the quiet afterglow of more passionate circumstances. As much as she loved having the warrior's sword as part of her museum's collection, agreeing to his terms at the last exhibit opening had been her way of letting them _both_ win - she just wasn't willing to admit it at the time.

That had definitely changed and this newfound appreciation for victory was something she was quickly falling for.

"I have to admit that I like coming here," he smiled, prompting her to look up at him. "I love seeing this other side of you."

The half grin on her lips was brief as she went from pondering the multiple sides he'd observed to the possibility that this short visit he'd made to the states wouldn't allow him a chance to see much more. The idea of watching him go - even though they'd confirmed that she'd be joining him eventually - was disheartening and Emma rested her head on his shoulder as she tried to think of how to broach that difficult line of questioning.

"It's definitely something I had to take into account when Robin called me last week about joining him on a dig near Scotland in a few days."

"Oh," she said, trying to hide the startled sadness in her voice. "The, uh….guy from Dartmouth?"

"Aye," Killian answered, tickling the length of her arm. "He's about to head out to the peninsula where they found that Viking knarr about fifteen years ago. Apparently something else was unearthed near there recently and they want him on the job since he's one of the worldwide experts on terrain analysis."

"Hmmm, that's definitely interesting," Emma said, trying to focus on her interest rather than her growing disappointment. "What did they find?"

"Possibly another ship," Killian smirked, his ability to hide his fascination sorely lacking. "Not as grand as the last one, but something seaworthy perhaps."

"Mmmm," she mused, raising an eyebrow at him. "Well, we all know how _you_ feel about boats, Dr. Jones."

"I suppose I've never been adept at hiding my affinity for them," he said, his smirk ever so slight in the dim glow of the museum. "Much like the fondness I have for you, love."

"Yeah, not your strong suit," she almost laughed. "I love you too, Dr. Jones - _for_ the record."

"I _know,"_ he sighed, a small nudge of his shoulder gathering her attention. "It's about the only thing that gives me pause actually."

Emma pulled back a bit, confusion beginning to tangle her already tentative mind. The idea of Killian halting on anything historical was certainly shocking. He'd never been the type to heed to such hindrance, but more the sort of man to go after what he loved with a tenacity and confidence that seemed unstoppable. The realization that maybe his sudden second thought regarding such a prestigious offer could involve her or maybe _them_ made Emma's heart thump erratically and she tried to maintain a cool front. The slight tilt of his head suggested she might be failing at that though - and _damn_ him for being able to decipher her so well.

"I received another offer a few days ago - before I had heard about Robin's proposed adventure," he explained with a furrowed brow. "It's one I'm thinking I'd like to take, assuming you might be okay with it."

Her nerves spiked instantly, the color draining from her flushed cheeks as she tried to think of what to say - what could possibly keep him from leaving. Her lips parted with a tremble, unknown words starting to form though she had no _clue_ just what type of plea she was about to give him. She silently thanked some higher, ancient, nondenominational being when he gave her _that_ look - the one that told her to shut up and listen to something that _might_ be worth hearing.

For the record, it usually was and _this_ \- this was no different.

"I want to stay here, Swan….with you," he finally admitted, his eyes honest and full of hope. "David's wanting some assistance with showcasing the exhibit - a presentation here and there as well as attending a few donor events. He's mentioned some possible opportunities to lecture at a couple nearby universities too - I guess he's got some contacts who've already inquired about my availability."

 _Holy shit,_ she thought as she froze. He really _did_ want this. He wanted _her_ \- maybe even more than the once in a lifetime opportunity he was about to pass up on.

"Emma, _I-"_

"Yes," she replied after the initial surprise faded. "That's what I want too."

"You're sure, love? I mean, I….I _just-_ " he stammered after a moment. "I know this place is….yours."

His expression was full of understanding, almost like he'd been preparing to be pushed away. She couldn't really blame him for that seeing as how her track record proved she was skilled at doing so, but he'd come back for her again. He'd traveled through time and back from what was possibly the start of the world to chase her.

Keeping him there was actually possible - and she wasn't about to say no. Not _this_ time.

"But….so are you," she replied, a hint of questioning in her assumption. "I _think?"_

"Afraid so, love," he grinned with a soft caress of her chin. "Evidence suggests that perhaps I always have been."

"Killian, I just….you're saying-" she attempted, blinking rapidly while hoping she wasn't about to sound completely ridiculous. "-are you saying that you're….giving up your ship for me?"

"Aye," he nodded with a loving smirk. "I guess you could say that."

Emma couldn't help a breath of ecstatic relief that escaped her as she pulled him into a reckless kiss, one that stirred up the fire and fervor only he could ignite. The feel of his hands on her waist made her body tingle as his lips worked against hers in well practiced harmony. It was everything and yet not enough - the idea of dragging him back to the basement to resume what they'd already done and would _surely_ be doing later still quite heavy in her hazy head.

There _was,_ after all, a satin covered antique chair that they'd yet to pay much attention to.

"So if you're going to stay-" she told him with feigned seriousness. "-I do have one condition."

"Oh, _do_ you?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, reaching up to run her thumb over the scar under his eye - one he'd deserved after a cocky encounter with an unstable shovel had backfired. "Stay _away_ from my fossils."

"Now, _love_ ," he beamed, nearly making Emma forget his historical transgressions altogether. "We both know that's just not going to happen."

Watching the muted illumination of the exhibit emphasize his charming grin and bolden that unbelievable blue of his eyes pushed Emma up onto a whole new level of happiness, one where she accepted that maybe there _was_ something to this whole idea of 'love'. The way he was looking at her made he think that even if she was still apprehensive about it now, he'd certainly find a way to convince her since well, that was just what he _always_ did.

"Yeah, I know," she replied with a defeated sigh and an amused smile. "But I had to try."

"Your dedication is always a sight to behold, darling," he commented cleverly. "Now, how do you suppose I'd go about arranging transport of that bed to your home?"

"I'm pretty sure that's _not_ happening, Jones," Emma laughed with a slight scolding to her voice. "But go ahead and try."

"Believe me, Swan," he winked. "I intend to."


	22. Having A Field Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a smutty little continuation of 'Physically Fit' and 'Extracurricular Activities' because as a teacher, I hate Field Day and I decided to write this to cheer myself up haha. Rated M - this is seriously straight filth. Happy Summer!

The texture of the wood door at her back wasn't completely unlike the several other smooth surfaces Emma had found herself pressed up against over the course of the past few very heated months. Sure, it was a bit colder and the drag of the sanded oak against her bare shoulders was sending shivers down her spine, but it was honestly a shock that it had taken her _this_ long to make such a sensory discovery.

How they'd avoided the dim lighting and slightly dusty space inside the school storage shed was truly something she couldn't provide an answer for, especially because there were _very_ few locations they'd skipped since the first time she let his firm hips push her into oblivious ecstasy.

Killian’s hands felt rugged on her sides as they slid downward, his thumbs pressing firmly on her hipbones until she moaned that sound of warning he seemed to enjoy so much. It crossed her mind briefly as he sent a trail of kisses down her neck that maybe he loved _her_ and not just the noises she made when they found themselves in close circumstances like their current ones. It was a thought she had tested a few times before - once when he spent two hours grading essays for her after she’d fallen victim to some plague obtained from her students and then again when he'd asked her to dance with him during their repeat chaperoning duo at the winter formal. Of course, _that_ sweet and almost tender request came right before he pulled her back into a nearby well known locker room where he really made her shiver.

Yeah, January temperatures had _nothing_ on Killian Jones and his ability to chill every inch of her body. The scorching numbers as they currently neared the end of May, on the other hand, seemed to have them _both_ in quite the unprofessional bind.

“So _bloody_ hot, Swan,” he mumbled as his mouth captured hers, his sweat skimmed body weighing on hers in a sexy sort of sticky way. “Too - _oh_ , hot….”

Emma could only gasp in agreement, though she wasn't totally sure if he meant the weather or _them_ \- because there was just no way she was single handedly responsible for the passionately scorching heat building like a wildfire as he held her close.

“Need to get this damn thing _off_ , love,” he told her as he fumbled with the skimpy straps of her hot pink summer dress. “Want to see all of you….”

She knew he wasn't talking about catching a glimpse of her sun kissed skin or a peek at the faint mark he’d sucked into the swell of her breast the night before. He was usually much more flirtatious in those endeavors, ones where he’d casually skim the small of her back as he passed behind her while she stood at the copy machine or offering the occasional swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip when he paused in the doorway to watch her bend to retrieve a book from a lower library shelf. This sort of verbal, anxious pleading was something different.

This was the desperate, devouring, out of control side of him that she _constantly_ longed for - and if it was about to turn her into a writhing mess in the soccer field storage shed, then so be it.

“Only if _I-”_ Emma finally replied, finding her breathless voice as she gripped the collar of his school issued gray tee. “-can see you too.”

His grin was smug as he let his hands continue to roam the space between her dress and her shoulder blades. The blue haze in his eyes was enough to make her want to strip down without another thought, much like she had when she'd walked in on him stretching at home after his evening run a few nights earlier. Emma bit her lip at the memory of how light sweat had dampened his hair and how the sight of it had led to a quick release on his living room couch and a _much_ slower one in a _very_ warm shower.

_God_ , she was helpless when it came to this man. Who would have ever thought physical education would _still_ be this relevant in her late twenties?

“Aye, love,” he exhaled, his mouth catching hers with a heated mumble. “But you first.”

He'd been about to drop to his knees in that predictable way, his gasping breath a sure sign of just how badly he wanted to make her body shake as he ravished her with his tongue. Emma was honestly beyond tempted to let him, especially when he slid the straps of her dress down the flushed skin of her shoulders before lowering his body to the concrete floor.

It was a move she'd witnessed so many inappropriate times and in a variety of locations. It was likely impossible to recall all of them when he was passionately consumed like this, but she remembered a few as a moan fell from her open mouth. They'd certainly covered many bases - after hours in the janitorial closet, against the well organized bookshelf in her classroom, and even in the back of the empty bus that had been left in the corner of the parking lot post sixth grade field trip. A rush of heat spread over her cheeks as she reminisced the sinful moments they both could have been fired for if their principal wasn't so _damn_ trusting. It was an anomaly that they hadn't been caught yet - and while it was tempting to see if their luck might last, they really did need to be more careful.

_Next time,_ she thought as his mouth claimed hers.

Emma hummed a strained sound at the sexy sight of him between her trembling legs, but as much as she couldn't wait to tangle her fingers in his dark hair, she decided quickly that she wanted to watch him react to the view of her kneeling on the hard ground instead.

“Love, what are you-” he asked with hazy confusion when she knelt and pressed her palms on his thighs before tugging his shorts down, exposing every firm inch of him. “- _oh_....doing?”

“What does it _look_ like I'm doing?”

“Trying to kill me I think,” he answered with a mumble that transformed in a low moan when her teasing touch ran across the bulge of his boxer briefs. “ _God_ , Swan….just…. _fu_ -”

“ _Language_ , Jones,” she warned, cutting him off with a slow lick along his throbbing length. “You know the rules.”

He gave her a lazy grin at that comment, his teeth biting back the explicit word he had nearly grunted loudly once. She had been riding him on the locker room bench in the almost empty school building very early that particular morning and she'd had to lift a fast hand to cover his anxious mouth just in time. It was fortunate that they'd been the first staff members there that time, though Emma knew they should feel guilty for claiming Killian need before open hours access to the school in order to wax the basketball court floors.

They should have definitely felt bad about the way their unstoppable need for one another seemed to lead to consistent bending of most district ethics policies, but when he looked like he always did in these heated scenes - dark hair a riotous mess and deep blue fire in his magnetic stare - well, it was difficult to feel _any_ remorse for all the things she wanted to do to him.

“If this is what ‘helpful’ looks like, I don't know why I don't ask for your assistance more often,” he breathed, his fingers winding through her hair as she finally took him into her mouth. “ _Oh_ \- like that, darling…. _love_ ….this.”

The four letter word that surely couldn't mean much barely registered as Emma began to move, her lips teasing as she sucked lightly and tempted him a bit deeper. Knowing he'd lose control soon, she couldn't bring herself to pause as he thrust lightly and she rutted forward against his ankle in a search for a bit of relief. Her hand automatically lowered to her own core as his tensed and he grunted at a growing volume. She rubbed hard, perfectly aware of how much her actions aroused every nerve vibrating in his body.

Oh, he was a _sight_ like this - completely focused yet on the brink of giving in. She indulged in his state for a few tension filled moments until he nudged her backward and pulled her to her feet.

“So….good, love, but I _want_ -” he nearly pleaded, kissing her hard. “I _need_ you-”

“ _Inside_ ,” she interrupted with a final stroke. “Need you inside me.”

“ _Yes_ , love,” he agreed with a hard thrust against her bare wetness. “ I want you so much, Emma.”

“Mmmm,” she breathed as she yanked his shirt over his head before letting her mouth find his again. “How do you…. _want_ -”

A deep growl vibrated in his throat as her dress finally slipped to the floor, the material smooth as it slid down her legs. Killian skillfully flipped the clasp of her bra and she trembled when it dropped to the small pile of clothing at their feet. The swift brush of his dark chest hair against her bare breasts had Emma shuddering within seconds and she found herself beyond grateful when his strong arm curled around her waist, keeping her balanced on weak knees while his tongue moved hypnotically against hers.

“ _Killian_ ,” she managed, the question she'd barely asked somehow prodding her as he pressed his bare body against hers. “Tell….me-”

“Turn around, love,” he exhaled, his hand tracing her lower back as his breath fell hot on her neck. “I'll _show_ you.”

She'd never been one to take well to being bossed around, but the husky tone of his voice wasn't a sound she wanted to defy. The way he could be so tender yet so direct was something she continually relished in and though his words were firm, Emma couldn't deny how badly she needed to see where his demands might lead.

_Damn_ him and that delicious accent. She'd always been a sucker for that sexy lilt in every seductive _syllable_ he spoke.

“Have to move a bit, love,” he told her, his lips soft against her ear as he nodded toward one of the metal goal frames he’d hauled into the shed a few hours earlier. “Just there.”

Emma let out a weak sound of agreement, her legs stumbling as his teeth bit lightly along her ear. He held her upright as they shifted forward a few steps, keeping his palm flat against her bare abdomen until they bumped into the horizontal crossbar of the goal. Her fingers curled instantly around the steel as he laid a trail of heated kisses down her spine. The brush of him hard and hot along her inner thigh was almost too much as she gripped the metal post tightly and Emma was all but certain that the heat of his mouth would make her melt before this was all over.

“Here, Swan,” he said softly, his words tingling against her neck as his free hand landed on her hip with a quick squeeze. “Oh…. _perfect_ ….”

Emma let out a small gasp as he gripped the underside of her leg and coaxed her forward, widening her stance as he held her in place. She carefully tightened her fingers around one of the slanted bars across the back of the goal, the cool feel of the metallic surface almost enough to make her realize how challenging this position he’d picked might be.

They'd only done this one other time, her hands braced on the leather chair in her living room while rare privacy had surrounded them. He had been cautious that time - perhaps permissive, even - as his dark eyes tempted her to try something new. She recalled instantly how quickly she’d fallen apart while the glow of her fireplace caressed his skin and he poured every ounce of energy into their combined pleasure before collapsing to the floor. It had been unusually intimate, a realization that clouded her tired mind when she started drifting off against his bare chest. The weekend had wrapped them both in an exhausted sleep as the embers died down and his breathing evened out, her body tingling as his heart thumped steadily.

She couldn't remember such an act ever feeling so good and he appeared to recognize that too, a quiet agreement that had led to a few more rounds of something a bit more tender before that Friday even became Saturday. She shouldn't have been surprised that he wanted to try it again and truthfully, she really wasn't. Killian was adventurously bold in _many_ ways and this instance was no different - possibility and surroundings be damned.

“ _Mmmm_ , that's more like it,” he breathed, his fingers dancing along the underside of her thigh before he gave himself a firm stroke. “You….are so _brilliant_ , love.”

“Killian…. _please_ -” she replied, rising slightly on her toes and wiggling against him as his hand lowered to her center. “-oh, _yes_. That's good. _There_ -”

“God, _Emma_ , the sounds….you make-” he groaned, entering her fast while his fingers pressed down just where she needed him. “-are…. _oh_ , tormenting-”

“This was…. _your_ idea, Jones,” she reminded him, angling her head back toward him as her lips parted weakly. “You said you….wanted to show me.”

“Planning on it, love,” he grinned teasingly as he bent forward a little more to reclaim the kiss with shallow breath. “Would be poor form to fail at following, _mmmm_ \- through.”

She tried for any sort of response as he swallowed her clipped moan and pushed deeper, his hard length stretching her perfectly as her arousal soaked him. Emma prayed her grip on the goal post would keep her steady as he moved back and forth with the fervor she _still_ couldn't fully comprehend. The way he shuddered against her back while driving in and out was beyond maddening. A few pleas escaped her, the passion in her voice wrapped in words like _‘don't stop’_ and _‘more, more’_. He might taunt her for such begging later in the low light of dusk, but she didn't care.

He was going to _wreck_ her - and oh, how she _needed_ him to.

“Killian, _that's_ …. _I'm_ ….I-” she stuttered, her grip on the metal post weakening as he shifted his hands to her hips. “- _right_ there. Just….don't stop.”

“ _Can't_ stop,” he told her as his forehead fell to her shoulder and he jerked forward. “Bloody _hell_ , Emma….are you-”

“Close - _yes_ ,” she nodded, letting her teeth sink into her lower lip. “I want you to….I _want_ -”

“Soon, love,” he promised, his body radiating heat as he kissed the back of her neck. “You…. _first_ ….”

Her back arched before he could even finish his breathy request and his strong arms held her still. The groan that escaped him was loud as it followed her own sated gasp and Emma smiled knowingly, her hand reaching back to toy with his hair while he kept her from collapsing down onto the solid ground below. He barely moved for a few seconds, waiting lazily for air to fill his lungs before he pulled away. She turned automatically and his forehead rested against hers, his own hand lifting so his thumb could brush sweetly against her cheek.

“Well,” he finally said with a fractionally smug grin. “I must say I'd call that a little more than ‘helpful’.”

“Generous compliments will get you everywhere apparently,” she laughed softly. “Is this when we decide it's best to ‘get back to work’?”

“Aye, but….I don't know if _that_ ….if that's all _this_ ….”

He paused with a slight shake of his head and Emma leaned back in time to notice the uncertainty in his blue gaze. She knew what he was trying to say. She knew exactly what question he was attempting to ask. It was the same inquiry she'd had a few times lately.

“I guess I'm just….wondering-”

“It _is_ more than that, Killian,” she cut in, her voice hopeful in a way that was still a bit unfamiliar. “This…. _thing_ with us, I mean - it's more than just work.”

He studied her briefly, watching her catch her breath as he let her words sink in. Killian had always been careful about emotions with her, always being weary of driving her away with a compliment that might be too charming or a gesture that might be too sweet. She didn't usually allow herself to be vulnerable like this, but Killian was….different - and he’d done everything from leaving cute notes on her desk between his classes to bringing her to complete euphoria on that same surface _many_ times to prove it. The adorable confusion in his eyes was almost amusing and Emma bit her lip before offering him the smile he deserved. This was uncharted ground, but she’d taken bigger risks with him than this.

Maybe _trust_ was the next thing they needed to try - and maybe it wasn't as scary as she imagined it might be.

“Well, if you say so,” he smirked happily, glancing toward the various pieces of equipment they'd knocked over. “But maybe we could clarify exactly what you mean over dinner once we get this place put back together?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, letting him kiss her once more. “I guess getting caught like this _would_ be a little embarrassing.”

“Almost as embarrassing as having to scour the locker room naked for a towel in the dead of winter,” he quipped with a chuckle. “But you wouldn't know _anything_ about that, would you, love?”

“Nope,” she replied with feigned nonchalance. “Doesn't sound familiar.”

“I suppose I'll have to remind you then?”

“Well,” she teased, raising her brow much like he often did. “I guess we’ll see about that _next_ school year, Jones.”

“I'm quite sure-” he taunted in return, pushing his hips against hers. “-we’ll remedy things long before then.”

“Quite scandalous, aren’t you?”

“With you, Swan,” he said with a promising wink. “ _Always_.”


	23. Breathing Dreams Like Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Neverland one shot set just after 3x05 in which Emma learns that Killian hears the cries of the Lost Boys too....

The voices echoed in her head as she shot up, allowing the dream - or rather, nightmare - to pull her from what had been a very uneasy sleep. The night was dense around the camp, only the sound of distant crickets and rippling water from the nearby lagoon to soothe her dizzied brain. Taking a deep breath, Emma glanced around the open space to notice her parents still soundly slumbering near the fire while Regina had finally succumbed to exhaustion beneath a blanket they'd brought from Hook’s ship.

 _Hook_ , she wondered as her frantic mind finally settled. Wait, where was _he?_

The question was curious at best, though there _was_ and probably always _had_ been more to her so called ‘casual’ thoughts about him. Her trust regarding the innuendo accompanied pirate captain had always been slightly off balance, but she knew he wouldn't leave them to their own less than knowledgeable devices on this island. He'd come back for them when he didn't have to. He'd opted to face his own apparent fear of this place to assist them - to help _her_ and save Henry. That surely meant something.

She just didn't know _what_.

Emma knew if he'd been present at the moment she'd been ripped from her unpleasant rest, he would have made sure she was alright, given her a possible explanation for her bout of island insomnia, and flirtatiously offered to accompany her back to her makeshift bed - probably in _that_ order. She rolled her eyes at the idea of how his smoldering smirk and those deep cobalt eyes would likely be able to make her mind wander if he'd propositioned her in such a manner.

Not that it wasn't _partially_ her fault for letting him finally get the best of her in the heat of this _damn_ jungle.

_Perhaps gratitude is in order…_

Emma shook off the echoing words before her relentless memory could drag up any more details. She didn't have time for that man _or_ his shameless charm. If they were going to find Henry, she'd need a focused mind - and that was something her nightmares surely wouldn't help her gain.

Rising to her feet, she quickly laced up her boots and grabbed the sword she'd been gifted back on the Jolly Roger. She took a moment to admire the slight curve of the blade and wonder about the story that might surround it. It still wasn't totally clear why Hook had insisted she have it - _well,_ other than the basic need for a way to protect herself. She'd seen the conflicted blue in his sympathetic gaze and heard the quieting of his tone when he'd extended it to her, the proof that perhaps he really was grieving Neal as well. Turning over a weapon that he'd coveted for quite some time seemed out of character for the selfish scoundrel who did little that didn't assist him in his own revenge. The cutlass was an unexpected and almost thoughtful gesture - along with now being a helpful item to sling across her back before she took what was about to be a very late night departure from the campsite.

Hook had warned them about the unpredictable trickery of Neverland when they’d finally docked, vowing to their group that _‘there are dangers all about and only I can guide us past them’_ as they hiked through the overgrown vegetation. Emma scoffed to herself as she thought back to his ominous words, a little irritated as she remembered how she’d jumped to support his claim so effortlessly. If he was around now to watch her tiptoe around the dwindling embers of the fire pit, he’d tell her that gallivanting off into the dark jungle was far too treacherous and that she’d only be tempting Pan to pay her a visit.

 _Bossy idiot_ , she thought with spiking nerves and a slow burn dancing across her skin. Why did she even care what _he_ thought?

She shivered as the recollection of the night before entered her weary mind. The kiss she’d somehow pulled him into as a speculated ‘thank you’ had definitely been a bit more complicated than that, but she’d been fighting the urge to believe it since the moment she pulled away. The feel of his lips on hers and the smooth texture of his leather collar in her grip were memories she couldn’t will away no matter how she attempted to distract herself. It was becoming more irritating by the minute and as she took a deep breath, Emma wondered just how she was expected to get him out of her mind and her system when the desire to kiss him again was almost as plaguing as her recent haunted dreams.

She finally resigned with a low groan. This was _ridiculous_. Hook wasn’t there and she sure as _hell_ didn’t have to answer to him. Plus, as much as she hated to agree with Regina, Pan had only proven so far to be a petty teenager with _way_ too much free time on his hands. One defiant adolescent villain was certainly something her savior skills could handle if needed.

She knew her mounting feelings about the Captain who’d brought them to this place were _truly_ what should be of concern.

Her boots plodded the dirty, swampy pathway through the tall reeds as she listened for noise beyond the sound of persistently noisy insects. The small lagoon they'd seen from one of the cliff tops nearby wasn't far and the idea of catching her bearings by the serenity of the water was a call she’d answered many times before - a habit that surely didn't have to cease just because they were in Neverland. All seemed relatively quiet and Emma remembered quickly that it wasn't this strange silence that had shaken her from sleep.

She'd had a nightmare - well, _maybe_ that's what it was. It felt a little more real than that though and like hell if she knew why.

It had only been three nights ago when she'd had a similar sort of fitful slumber. Tossing and turning on the damp dirt of the jungle floor had left her body tense and breath heaving by the time she snapped upright in a state of panic, the voices and soft cries of something unknown ringing in her ears. It wasn't until she had taken a short walk to chase away the demons that she'd learned from an intrusive Pan what had caused her troubled dream.

It was the call of the lost boys - broken and lonely as it hung in the distance. It hadn't taken long for her to recognize their empty sound as one she'd made in her younger years of abandonment. It was the plea of fading hope and the acceptance of loss. It was familiar and something only _she_ had heard, despite the presence of the other members in the determined search party.

At least, that's what she'd believed until this moment when she reached the edge of the somewhat concealed body of water. The sight ahead confirmed she wasn't alone in her midnight venture.

Submerged cautiously in the water was the man she'd been annoyingly pondering just moments ago. _Hook_ , she realized silently with a soft bite of her bottom lip. He looked somewhat calm in the soft moonlight, his silhouetted stance in the shallows cut clear as he ran a wet hand up and down his face. Even with the distance, she noticed a strangely haunted expression as he pulled his fingers through his hair and began shaking off the moisture with a quick tilt of his head. It was easy to see the way his bare chest heaved with a deep breath and she wondered briefly what had brought him to his current place of obviously much needed relaxation. It was late, but here he was - looking as familiarly confused and tormented as she felt.

It wasn't possible _he'd_ heard the droning cries from beyond the trees. It wasn't possible that they were _that_ kindred. It _definitely_ wasn't possible that he could understand one other element of the past she just couldn't put away.

“Evening, Swan,” his voice welcomed suddenly, the shifting of the still waters and his locating glance grabbing her attention. “A bit late to be out and about, isn't it?”

Emma sighed softly, folding her arms to hide the shiver rolling over her skin. She tried to look away from his dark gaze, knowing full well how impossible that was recently becoming and knowing even more so just how hazardous a staring contest with the perceptive pirate truly was. The drops of water lingering on his skin and the way his shaggy wet hair clung to his forehead quickly reminded her that _he_ was perhaps one of the real perils she'd be forced to face in this realm.

She’d come to that inconvenient realization the night before in the concealed space of the trees when she’d kissed the hell out of his arrogant lips. God, _what_ had she been thinking - and _why_ was she thinking the same thing right now?

“I thought I'd warned you about the dangers here _plenty_ of times to discourage you from taking any midnight strolls.”

“Yeah, I, _umm_ ….couldn't sleep,” she offered, taking some entranced opportunity to move a little closer. “But it looks as if I could accuse you of the same problem.”

“Aye,” he started, dragging his hand back through his drenched scalp before lifting an eyebrow. “Suppose I might have wondered if you could hear them too.”

Emma felt chills move across her skin as she watched his expression go from curious to sweetly sympathetic. His stare softened as the water rippled around him, the moonlight emphasizing his handsome appearance as he proved once again just how well he _did_ understand her. There was something knowing in his eyes - almost like he’d assumed she’d disobey his advisory and go traversing the island in the wake of sleeplessness anyway. They were similar in so many ways already, but now they apparently shared a common cause of insomnia as well.

“You alright, Swan?”

His eyebrows furrowed with concern and Emma tried to straighten her unsteady stance. She'd seen that look and heard that question from him far too often in the past few days and it seemed to push her - to suggest she address elements about him that she wasn't ready to. It was almost too difficult to fight the temptation in the form of his echoing words.

_I thought all you cared about was yourself._

_Perhaps I just needed reminding that I could._

Her mouth parted, her lower lip vibrating as he looked on with intense concentration. He moved closer slowly, the water surrounding his body sinking lower as his motion navigated him to a slightly more shallow place. Emma tried to quiet the gasp leaving her throat as he ruffled his wet hair and the tiny waves he created brushed against his ribs, the brace that kept his hook in place still strapped skillfully around his arm. He was certainly naked - and she was _definitely_ wondering. She was busy trying to remind herself just how bad of an idea _that_ was when the distant sound of sorrows broke through the tense air once again.

“You do hear them-” he said after a moment, raising an eyebrow. “-don't you, love?”

There was no point in lying to this man - she'd decided that long ago. He could see through her in a way she'd never expected. After all, nobody else had ever been able to.

“Why do _you_ hear them?”

“Seems a bit evasive to counter with a question you already know the answer to,” he remarked with a sly smirk. “If you're that keen on avoiding my inquiry, I can take a hint.”

“It's not that,” she said softly, shaking her head as the toe of her boot tapped the edge of the water. “I just….I didn't know….I mean, _you_ aren’t an orphan - you're a pirate, Hook.”

“There's no rule in Neverland that says you can't be both,” he told her with a suddenly exposed shrug. “Very little restrictions here at all, in fact, which means you won't have to spend all of your time policing everyone - something I figured you’d appreciate _,_ darling.”

The subtle curve of his lips was curious - a slight flirtatious challenge that was completely customary of this man and a little quirk she’d been trying to ignore since the day she started to scale the beanstalk alongside him. It was one of those little conversational things he did that she _knew_ she shouldn’t feed into, but for once, she wanted to.

 _Just to catch him off guard,_ she thought silently. _Just_ to even the playing field in this game they’d somehow been competing in for a while now.

“Not all of are as interested in testing local laws as-” she returned, folding her arms with a smirk of her own. “- _you_ are, Captain.”

“Well, maybe some rules are meant to be broken,” he grinned as his hook skimmed the water. “Not that you’d dare do such a thing, right, Sheriff?”

“You’d be surprised.”

He stilled at her response, her answer invoking a rare silence between them. Typically the air was so thick with sexual tension and unspoken somethings when they shared space, but _this_ was different. Emma fought the instinctive urge to take back the simple sentence she’d just let slip from her mouth, but the way he looked at her with that blue fire in his eyes made her want to let the words hang there in the humid dark night while he decided what to do with them.

“I’m fairly certain I don’t believe that, love,” he replied as he ran his damp hand over the thick scruff on his jaw. “In fact, when it comes to pushing aside principles, I'm quite sure _you’re_ the one who can't handle it.”

The words slammed into her with scorching recognition and she fought quietly for breath as she remembered saying something quite similar to him after he’d saved her father’s life. It was that low tone of his voice and that teasing look in his always attentive gaze that she’d given into, but it was the skill and precision of his smooth lips that kept the memory lingering in her mind. Now here he was again - coaxing her forward with a competitive edge while the shadowy light of the moon illuminated the tense clench of his jaw and the toned broadness of his shoulders.

She wasn’t sure if she _could_ handle him or anything about this, but seeing him awake for the same reason she was made her wonder if she should try.

“Of course, if you _are_ determined to prove me wrong, the water’s quite warm tonight,” he offered, giving her that vaguely hopeful glance. “Nothing like a swim to soothe a worried mind.”

“My mind is _not_ worried,” she refuted quickly, placing her hands on her hips as she considered the idea. “Is it even safe to be in there? What about these ‘lurking dangers’ you keep mentioning?”

“This particular location isn’t quite so perilous,” he assured her, shaking the water off his head before winking far too salaciously. “Neither Pan nor his minions have been welcome here for centuries.”

“Why?”

“Well,” he said lowly with a lift of his eyebrow. “The former inhabitants of this lagoon weren't quite so fond of the self proclaimed king of Neverland.”

“Former inhabitants? Someone used to live _here?”_

“Aye, love,” he continued. “They ran a rather tight ship, if you will.”

“ _Please_ don't tell me you're talking about mermaids.”

“No,” he grinned before his eyes grew playfully serious. “Sirens, actually.”

“Ah,” she replied, trying to recall any knowledge she already possessed in regard to this brand of mythological creature. “Did they try to lure you to your death at any point in your travels here?”

“Perhaps once or twice,” he chuckled. “But I'm a survivor - as you know.”

Emma let his answer tease her pulse, her mind racing as she realized just how much his many decades alive supported that claim. This man had endured multiple lifetimes - some of which was spent on the island they were currently navigating - and Emma knew there had to be plenty of stories that came along with those years. Watching him glance up at the starry sky, she wondered just how many times he'd done this before - how many times he'd visited this lagoon with the mission of feeling like anything but a lost boy.

Because yes, that's what the mighty and fearsome Captain Hook _truly_ was - a lonely orphaned sailor who apparently knew her better than she knew herself.

“It's safe here, Swan,” he told her in a careful tone, his gaze bright with hope. “The water might put you at ease.”

Emma stared briefly at the smooth shoreline, letting her eyes follow the length of it and then curve back around to where he was waiting. The level of the lagoon wasn't that high - the surface of the water steady against his wet chest - and contrary to the outcome of the mermaid fiasco, she _was_ a decent swimmer. Emma knew why he was telling her to give the lagoon a chance and for once, she didn't think it was merely an effort he was making to seduce her. She'd seen how he looked at the helm of his ship, the sway of the waves and the view of the horizon clearly calming him like nothing else could. He seemed to want that serenity for her too and inviting her into the warm depths of a glorified pond was obviously his way of telling her so.

She'd become very skilled at turning down every form of request or flirtation he could offer, but as the water splashed against her covered feet, Emma decided she didn't want to shut him down this time - at least, not _yet._

“Just-” she stammered, sighing heavily in submission and furrowing her eyebrows. “-turn around.”

He smirked as he realized what was happening, his teeth teasing his lip as he appeared to hold back a victorious grin. Emma rolled her eyes as he faced the opposite directions, a strange type of nervousness rising in her bones as she stripped quickly. The night air was humidly hot, but her skin still tingled with a tense chill as she kicked aside her boots and followed the removal of those with her tank top and dark jeans. The black lace garments beneath her clothes were basic but well fitted and she allowed herself to wonder just what expression he'd be wearing if he were to see her in them. Tossing the final pieces of material to the small pile, Emma realized she might never know.

After all, _he_ was naked beneath the warm water. It was only logical that she should be too.

Logic, however, was something that seemed to be in short supply as she dipped her leg into the lagoon. The small ripple she created caught his attention and she sunk lower into the shallows before he could fully turn around. The way he glanced over his shoulder toward her was smoldering and tempting, his bare skin almost magnetic as she drifted closer. Her ankles bumped against his as she reached him, the feel of his legs making her pause and lean back to wet her hair. Anchoring her feet, Emma let the cool moisture run through her long blonde tresses for a moment. It was relaxing in a way she definitely needed, but she was not at all prepared for the way he was watching her when she lifted her head back to match his eye level.

His simmering stare seemed to study her, his tongue tracing his bottom lip as he watched her wring out the wetness from her wavy locks. It had never been a secret that Hook found her attractive, but in that instance, it was obvious that he found her downright irresistible - and oh, how she suddenly _loved_ the power that gave her.

“So,” she finally said, trying to hide her shaky tone with a small smile. “Captain Hook likes to swim.”

He laughed at that, his amusement in the statement that could have been a question somewhat endearing as a smirk turned up the corner of his lips. How he could go from sexy to stupidly sweet with one simple reaction was perplexing and Emma tried not to appear too anxious to decipher it.

“I don't know if it's so much that I _prefer_ it, but it’s a necessary skill when you've spent as much time near the ocean as I have.”

“Ah, yes - all those _centuries_ ,” she teased. “I’m assuming the ability to tread water was rather helpful in seducing sirens too, right?”

“Hmmm,” he grinned, his hair hanging just barely over his eyes. “What makes you so sure it was _me_ doing the persuading, love?”

“The fact that you constantly speak in a series of innuendos I guess,” she told him. “It seems like you've had plenty of practice.”

He shifted a little closer, his eyes locked on hers and their heated hue as blue as ever. She knew _that_ look - she'd learned just how far it could tempt her the night before when she'd wrapped her grip around the collar of his heavy coat and succumbed to his simple request. Well, it _had_ started out simple at least, but kissing Killian - _errr,_ Hook - wasn't ever going to be an ordinary endeavor.

She'd always known that on some level, but ignoring it was a solution that was fading fast as the water made subtle swirls between them.

“Suppose I have,” he agreed, reaching up to swipe a stray piece of her damp hair aside skillfully with his hook. “But I must say, you tend to encourage it.”

“Oh, _please_ ,” Emma scoffed with realization that she was blushing. “Like when?”

“Last night, for starters-” he replied, his hand slipping to locate hers. “-and now.”

He wasn't wrong. She hadn't come here to do this - to trap herself in a close conversation like this - but lord help her, she was powerless to avoid it now. It didn't really matter though.

She wanted to see where his heavy words might take them. She wanted to feel that passion and spontaneous breath of relief he'd given her once before.

“Is that a complaint, Captain?”

“Not at all, Swan,” he said with a slow shake of his head. “Merely the start of a question.”

“Hmmm,” she countered as his fingers toyed with hers, her touch ultimately landing on his shoulder. “Would you like to elaborate?”

“In a moment,” he answered as he pulled her further into his space, his hand holding her cheek tenderly. “But first….”

It was _him_ that snapped this time. His arm wrapped around her and he lifted her, pressing his weight against her and igniting a kiss that rivaled the first one they'd recently shared. He clung to her cautiously and Emma’s pulse pounded erratically as her mouth followed his in a pattern she hoped she wouldn't forget. The world around them dropped away, the blur of careless intimacy drowning out the sounds that had been taunting her as his tongue caressed hers. She wanted to push him further - to see if he really wanted more than just another kiss. His lips seared hers only a few seconds beyond that daring thought before he gasped, interrupting the heated endeavor that had put a hell of a dent in her walls.

“ _Swan_.”

His labored accent began to caress the sound of her name like an uncertain warning while his hook traced the skin of her back. She kept a firm palm on his wet chest while her swollen lips chased the abandoned kiss, her nails teasing the coarse hair she'd considered so many times. He kept a rigid stance though the exploration of his gentle hand moved decisively to her hips, his deep blue eyes studying her mouth with intrigue and want while they stood submerged in the tension filled water. She could sense his need to talk and to likely analyze in a way only Killian Jones seemed to often do.

 _Why_ did he have to do such a thing now though? That's not what she had come here for - though in complete fairness, she hadn't expected to end up doing any of this either.

“Emma,” he nearly pleaded, keeping his lips parted but spaced irritatingly away from hers. “ _Wait_ ….”

“Shhh….not now - I can't talk about that now….”

“I just want an answer,” he breathed, pressing his mouth to hers once more. “Just _one_.”

“What?”

“Why, love? Why did you kiss me?”

“I just….because-” she replied, her explanation mumbled as her forehead pressed against his. “-I don't know. I just wanted to.”

It wasn’t a sufficient response - she _knew_ that. His breath was panting as their brief pause threatened to make her think twice. Letting his eyes linger on her in a state of pure lust and desire nearly screamed danger, but his staring was the only thing keeping her focused. He'd always scared her because of moments like this one - simple, scorching instances where the space around them was all but on fire.

She was never nervous about Captain Hook. No, she was always much more afraid of the honest curiosity and tender affection she knew Killian Jones possessed regarding her - because there was _no_ way that such a passionate pirate would be anything but _that_ as a longing lover.

“Emma….”

“Later, Hook,” she pleaded, pressing her hips against him as the water around them shifted. “I just….I _need_ this.”

“You need-” he breathed, a slight question between his ragged words while his hand caressed the length of her body. “-this?”

“You,” she mumbled against his mouth, her fingers moving to tangle in his hair. “I need you.”

“You have me, darling,” he assured her as his hips moved with the weak current, swaying suggestively. “However you want me.”

Emma tried control the pull of his words and the way they seemed to invite her into a territory that was so much more than this blinding itch that needed to be scratched. There was commitment in his reply - a sort of submissive offer that insisted he wasn’t doing this in the name of physical attraction or the desire to break this tension between them. He wasn't just offering her this as a one time thing.

“Love, are you-” he mumbled as his lips barely pried away from hers. “-certain you want to? Because I….I don't-”

“I'm sure,” she cut in, her fingers threading through his dark wet hair. “I….I want you.”

He inhaled with a labored gasp and a brief grin before diving back in, his motions as tumultuous as the waves they'd battled on the journey here. He kissed her hard and breathless as his hand gripped her thigh beneath the water, his dull fingernails scratching lightly as he pulled her tight against him. The assault of his mouth was scorching and it didn't take long for the kiss to pull her under, the feel of his hook along her spine and the heat of his lips more hazardous than any water in Neverland.

“Emma,” he managed, his lips hot against hers. “Love….you _have_ to-”

He'd barely begun to instruct when her legs rose weightlessly in the water, wrapping tight around his waist as her arms looped around his neck. The drops of water clinging to his beard felt cold against her bare chest as he explored her neckline with a heated mouth. She allowed her fingernails to press against his scalp when his teeth nipped her collarbone, the reality of being physically tangled with this man suddenly burning her from the inside out. The water splashed slightly between them when he widened his stance, his fingertips toying with her wet hair before his hook smoothed the space between her shoulder blades.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, kissing her breast softly and his free fingers slipping down between her legs. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

His voice was sincere - nearly too genuine. She shook off the wave of uncertainty he sent coursing through her body, shivering with a small gasp his thumb circled her center. He rubbed her lightly a few times, the pressure of his teasing touch making her moan quietly. Emma let her forehead fall against his - she couldn't allow herself to hinge on the hypnotic look he was definitely about to offer her.

She couldn't let herself believe in anything quite so honest - not when the spark of happiness she'd finally found in Storybrooke still hung so delicately in the threatened air.

“Kiss me,” she pleaded in a whisper. “Like before.”

He didn't speak, perhaps sensing how much she needed the wordless intimacy. His lips were pliant as they moved against hers, but with a purpose she couldn't define as he held her close. The brush of his chest hair against her front was tortuous and the sensation sent her body into overdrive. She hadn't planned to wrap herself in such an aroused state - especially not the kind that would lead to her writhing in his arms. Now as he teased her with a firm press of his hips, it seemed impossible to accept anything less than this.

He clearly knew what she _needed,_ even if she wasn't ready to admit that it was also what she _wanted_ \- and she knew without any sign of a doubt that he'd give it all to her. She just had to tell him. She merely needed to _ask._

“Hook,” she started, her head hazy with building pleasure as he stole a sequence of passionate kisses. “I…. _I-”_

He stepped forward with a strong stride, the water now only up to just below his waist. He strode quickly to the shore as his lips continued to guide hers, his hand buried in her damp hair as he moaned into her mouth. Emma barely registered the feel of mud against her back as he lowered them to the ground, their bodies almost entirely out of the lagoon. His torso was heavy against hers and she almost whined at the loss of his weight when he leaned back, bracing the curve of his hook on the wet sand before surging forward with a low grunt.

“Mmmm, _yes_ ,” she managed as he gripped her hips. “Like…. _that-”_

He answered with a hard kiss, his free fingertips dancing over her cheek as he rocked back and forth above her. The way they fit together was almost too perfect and it was obvious he felt it too. Her hands clawed anxiously at his biceps as he thrusted a little deeper, their heaving breaths matching as he pushed her closer to the brink of oblivion.

She'd always known it would be like this. From the moment his clever tongue had curved around that first flirtatious remark, she'd always known this could happen if she'd let it - and as he gazed down at her with pure understanding and the promise of protecting her, she realized this was a choice worth making.

“ _Killian_ ,” she finally said as her head fell back a bit more, her back starting to arch. “Almost…. _yes-”_

“Hold onto me, love,” he begged, the water of the serene lagoon still glistening on his naked skin. “ _Emma_ ….”

Her name had never sounded so good as he kissed her once more, his tongue moving over hers the final straw. He held her steady as she came undone, letting himself follow as they both trembled in an effort to regain coherence. They remained speechless a little longer as they each took in the last remnants of whatever the hell had just happened and when his head finally rose from her weak shoulder, Emma realized she had no clue what to say.

What exactly was she _supposed_ to say to the man who'd just defined distraction in a way she had only dreamed of?

“Bloody hell.”

He spoke in a near gasp, tucking her hair behind her ear with a sated smile. His strong embrace was warm around her as he shifted them a little further away from the water and Emma tried to summon any fraction of energy. Her eyes met his lazily and the pure adoration he offered her in that moment made her heart race. He found the permission in her gaze that she couldn't seem to vocalize, leaning down to meet her mouth with his own.

“You okay, Swan?”

“Mmmm,” Emma replied with a slight smirk. “Just….tired.”

“Well,” he chuckled, rolling over onto his back and beckoning her closer. “I tend to have that effect on people.”

“I guess I should have been expecting that,” she grumbled as she rested her chin on his chest. “You're always one to fill the silence.”

“Forgive me, love,” he grinned, his words hushed and his fingers smooth against her back. “But for the record, it _is_ rather quiet now.”

Emma’s eyes fluttered fully open and she glanced up toward the trees. The air was still and absent of the noise that had kept her from the sound sleep she truly needed, a fact she wasn't sure she should try to analyze. Her head became hazy as she let him hold her, her smile briefly pressed against his chest. His thumb grazed her skin with slow strokes as he relaxed and laid a soft kiss on the crown of her head. It was an affectionate action, one that seemed to come easy to the man who was clearly made up of far more depths than this mystical body of water. Emma knew they were both muddy and damp from the short swim, but as the stars shone faintly overhead, she decided not to care for a few more minutes. He didn't seem to mind and she tried to keep her wits in check, knowing how easy it would be to fall asleep on the sandy bank with his strong arms keeping her safe.

 _Not_ that she needed that - and not that she'd _ever_ admit it if she actually did.

“Thank you-” she mumbled, picking the words he really did deserve. “-for everything.”

“Mmmm,” he said with a faint laugh. “I’m quite sure I'm the one who should be expressing gratitude this time, Swan.”

Emma felt her heart flutter at the way the tables had turned, his consistent embrace pulling her into total exhaustion. These quiet surroundings were all she had been in pursuit of when she'd left her makeshift bed on the jungle floor, but finding him and letting him silence her demons was an outcome she was now all too grateful for. His breathing evening out as her eyes closed, his sudden yet soothing voice now the only thing keeping her from finding a cozy slumber.

“We probably shouldn't get too comfortable, love.”

“Maybe not, but-,” she said with a defeated groan. “-maybe for a minute, you could shush and let me sleep?”

“Here?”

“Mmmm,” she nodded. “For now.”

He sighed heavily, wiggling against the ground and settling in for what he'd probably call ‘the long haul’. This certainly wasn't something she should get used to, but for _now_ \- well, for now, she’d allow it.

 _A one time thing,_ she thought with a yawn. _That's_ what this was.


End file.
